The Frog's Princess
by Unimaginable Possibilities
Summary: This is a retelling of The Frog Prince with a humorous twist. The sarcastic prince tells his story of how he was transformed and how he won his princess's heart.
1. Chapter One

This story is dedicated to all of you who love _The Frog Prince_ as much as I do. Enjoy!

A/N: For anyone who has read my story before the 18th of December, it has gone under a slight revision, so certain details have been changed but the story itself is the same. :)

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**The Frog's Princess**

_Chapter One_

_Me and My Big Mouth_

*~.....~*

Dancaut Forest was forbidden to even the bravest men. Many people believe that the creatures which inhabit the dark forest are the most cruel and foul creatures to ever roam the earth. _I _think it's a load of bull. Now don't get me wrong, the forest _is_ dark and intimidating, but the only reason that it's forbidden is because my mother, Queen Annalese, doesn't approve of it. She says it's a place where evil flourishes, but _I_ say that it's a good place to get away from everything and think—okay, so mostly to just get away from my sisters, but anyone would understand my need if they lived with them. I go there often, taking a lantern and my sword. I may not fear the forest, but I'm not stupid. I never enter the forest without my sword.

Today started out like any other day, I guess. I woke up with one of my younger sisters jumping up and down on my bed at a ridiculous hour in the morning saying 'Get up, Philip! Get up!' in an annoying singsong voice. Needless to say I yelled at her quite angrily to get out, and she ran to my mother simply howling. I'm third out of seven, so one could imagine the torture I have to put up with. The two siblings older than I am are girls, and then I have two more little sisters and two even younger little brothers. After being scolded for losing my temper at my eight year old, pain in the rear sister, I was sent to her room, not mine, _hers_, to think about how I should act toward people who are younger than I am.

So, there I was, a 15 year old boy in a pink and purple decorated bedroom surrounded by hundreds of toys, including, but not limited to: 30 dolls, two tea sets, and more plush animals than I have ever seen anywhere. I am _not_ exaggerating. Although, I guess it wouldn't have been that bad—if it wasn't for a certain little sister pressuring me to play dress up and have tea parties. Unfortunately I had to oblige because if I didn't, she would throw another tantrum and my mother would burst through the door glaring at me like I had a date with death. Let's just say that I was _not_ a very happy person that morning.

After narrowly escaping the horrid real-life nightmare, I hurriedly grabbed an apple and a chunk of bread to eat and headed off towards the forest. I also brought with me a lantern, along with a dark cloak to wear as I walked. I don't like to be recognized when I'm trying to forget that I'm the Crown Prince.

Dancaut Forest was a good distance away—especially since I had to sneak around a good section of the Kingdom. Even with the cloak I was somewhat distinguishable. Not many people have satin cloaks. The last thing I needed was for someone to recognize me entering the forest and for him or her to run to my mother. If she ever found out about where I actually go, (I tell her that I just walk around the Kingdom for a while) I would be in a world of trouble.

I came to the place where I usually enter the forest. It was a narrow gap in between several huge pine trees so it was less noticeable as I ventured forth into the forbidden forest. When I finally stepped through, I lit my lantern and walked the familiar trail that went in no particular direction. I wandered about for a little while but then stopped abruptly. I felt as if I was being watched. Looking around I couldn't see anything even with the bright light from my lantern. Then, quite suddenly a faint noise sounded in the distance. My heart jumped in my throat and I accidentally dropped my lantern. I stomped out the small fire and quickly drew my sword. I held my breath listening hard. Whatever it was did not sound very friendly.

I stood there in the semi-darkness with my sword held tightly in my hand and listened with all my might for even the slightest movement. If something was going to attack, I'd be ready. Suddenly a loud cackle came from behind me. I swung around to face an ugly, old hag. How the heck she snuck up behind me, I'll never know. She stood there grinning at me with her seven rotting teeth. Thank heavens her gray-silver hair was covering up most of her hideous face. Now I know that's rude and all and I'm sorry, but seriously, this woman could frighten the fearless. She's _that_ ugly.

"Why hello, young man!" she said sweetly in a horrid raspy voice. It would have been welcoming—if it wasn't for the psychotic glint in her eyes… and her face, of course.

"Uh…" I squeaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello," I said awkwardly.

"What brings yeh to _my_ forest?" she asked, still exposing her hideous smile.

"I uh… got lost while looking for a… plant." I wasn't completely lying; I had no idea where in the forest I was.

"I see… Well, yous is trespassin', and I don' take kindly to them kinds of people," she said in a semi-sympathetic tone.

"I'll leave as soon as I can if you just point me in the right direction," I said anxiously. Her grin grew, if possible, even bigger.

"Now why would I wants yous to go?" she asked deviously. I gave her a puzzled look.

"Well…but, you said… I thought that since you don't like trespassers... that you would want me to leave immediately," I said, confused.

"Don' be silly! In fact, now that yous is here, yous can help me with sumthin." I gulped. Was it just me or did her smile seem more evil now?

Two thoughts ran across my mind as I was forcefully led to a mangy looking old house: Number one being, of course, that this woman was crazy, and two, how the heck was I going to get away from her without her becoming angry? Yes, you heard me correctly—angry. She may be old and perhaps somewhat frail, but being psychotic made people creative and I didn't want her getting any ideas. She might trap me and… eat me… or something. Hey, I don't know.

She pulled me into her putrid house and made me sit down on a 3-legged decaying stool which was positioned next to an old book. The book was quite large and had a worn brown leather cover. I eyed it curiously and she followed my gaze.

"Yous likes it?"

"Uh…," I started hesitantly. "Sure?" Wrong answer. Her eyes narrowed and her smile was replaced with a scowl.

"WELL YOU CAN' HAVE IT!" she screamed maniacally as spit flew everywhere. "IT'S MINE! MINE!"

"Okay, okay, it's yours! I don't want the ugly old thing, for crying out loud!"

Oops… I don't think I should have said that last part. She glared at me while she stroked her book as if it were some sort of pet. I shifted uneasily under her stare. Finally after several long minutes, she flung the book open and began searching for something. I tried to get up, but it was like I was glued to the stool. She paused at a page, murmured something under her breath, and then glanced over at me. I didn't know what to expect, but I certainly did not imagine seeing her grow—or was I shrinking? I started to panic and hopped off the stool. Wait a second… hopped? I looked down and saw tiny arms and a green body with freakishly long, skinny legs. I tried to scream, but instead of my voice I heard a loud croak. I couldn't believe it. That psychotic witch turned me into a frog!


	2. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

_We Can Rule Out Genius_

*~.....~*

The witch laughed maniacally when she saw my horrified expression. I demanded that she change me back at once, but all that came out of my mouth was a loud croaking noise.

"I don' talk _frog_, little _Prince_," she said as she came towards me. My eyes grew wide and my mouth hung open revealing my long pink tongue. "Yeah, I knows who yous is. After all these years, I finally gots my revenge!" She laughed again.

Revenge? Revenge on what? Surely _I've_ never done anything to this uh… _woman_ for her to want revenge, though I could think of a couple things that I would like to do to her right now. I asked her what she was talking about, knowing it was useless before I even opened my mouth, but hey, I had to try, right?

"Now I told yous before; I don' talk fr—" she stopped mid-sentence and stared at me with a twisted smile which made her look, if possible, even uglier. Then she bounded back to her book like a little kid on a sugar high and frantically began flipping through the pages again. I watched her curiously and wondered how she could bring me down any lower than this disgusting and pathetic excuse for an animal. No offense to anyone who actually _likes_ frogs, but seriously, would anyone really want to _be_ one? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Anyway, so while she was distracted, I took that opportunity to edge myself closer to the door, which I realized previously that it was wide open. With only a couple more hops to go before the sweet scent of freedom reached my nose, I looked back to make sure that she was still preoccupied with her book. But, _of course_, she wasn't there.

"Ah ah ah, naughty naughty," said the witch from behind me and was now blocking the exit. I gave a disappointed croak as she picked me up and placed me back on the stool. I glared at her menacingly while she returned to searching through her book once more. She must have felt my heated stare, because she glanced in my direction.

"Don' look at me that way, little Prince. Yous probly won' be a frog forever," she said. I perked my head up. "Nah, if yous can get a princess, and not just any princess, but a princess that loves yous 'nd yous loves her, and get her to kiss yous for true love's first kiss, then the spell'll get broke."

Oh, well that settles it then. I'm doomed. What respectable, high-class princess would want to bring a slimy frog even close to the vicinity of her face, let alone _kiss_ one? _I_ wouldn't even want to touch me.

"And if that don' happen," she continued as if she were reading my thoughts. "Frogs don' live very long anyways, 'cause of all the snakes, 'nd coyotes, 'nd raccoons, 'nd hawks around. Theys eats frogs you know, 'nd you isn' safe in the water either, 'cause turtles eats frogs too," she said matter-of-factly, nodding her head and trying to look somber. She then returned to searching.

Well, great. That's just perfect.

Then suddenly, she started jumping up and down, clapping her hands enthusiastically, and let out a hysterical giggle, which, moments later, transformed into a hacking cough. I didn't know _what_ was going on, but I was a little freaked out. This woman made Hamlet seem completely normal.

She rebounded from her vigorous coughing like nothing happened and resumed her insane laughter. Then, she stopped abruptly and shoved her nose in her book. If frogs had eyebrows, I'd be raising one. She muttered inaudibly and glanced over at me as before. I felt a strange tickling sensation in my throat and actually succeeded in clearing it. Her grayish-silver eyes lit up at the sound.

"Yous can talk now, little Prince," she said, displaying her horrible rotting smile.

"Wait… you gave me the ability to speak normally?" I asked her disbelievingly. She nodded her head vigorously. "To anyone?" She nodded again. Okay… we can rule out genius. Now I can just go to my father, tell him what happened, and have him order her to change me back. Something on my face must have given me away though, because she eyed me suspiciously.

"What is you thinkin, little Prince?" she asked.

Right… like I was honestly going to tell her.

"First of all, could you _please_ stop calling me that? I'm not a little kid anymore. My name is Philip," I said rather testily. I was fifteen after all.

"I don' care what yous is called. _I'm_ callin you 'little Prince'" she said firmly.

Okay, well, that didn't get me anywhere. I decided to find out what this 'revenge' that she discussed earlier was about.

"Why am I a frog, _anyway_? What did _I_ ever do to you?"

"Oh, yous didn' do nothin. This is all cos of what yehr father done," she answered.

"My father? What did _he_ do?"

"_Well_," she began in an irritated tone. "Yehr father drived me out of his kingdom. Me! I didn' do nothing to _him_, and he made me leave," she huffed.

I couldn't believe that.

"Oh, come on. You must have done _something_. My father just doesn't send people away for nothing," I reasoned.

"Yous callin me a liar, boy?" she asked threateningly.

"I'm only saying that there has to be a logical explanation for him to banish you," I said. She looked confused. Perhaps she didn't understand some of the words. I tried again. "Umm… there has to be... a good reason?"

"Who says?" she pouted.

My God this woman was difficult. She acted like one of my younger siblings. I couldn't believe that I was actually starting to miss _them_. I discreetly glanced towards the door while she was glowering at something across the room and almost leapt for joy a little too soon when I found out that it was still open. I tried to calm myself down to think of a way to escape.

"Tell me what happened so I can understand then," I said soothingly. Her face lit up, which still did not approve her features mind you, and she ran to get herself a chair. She plopped herself down right in front of me. I just stared at her. This was _not_ what I had in mind. She resembled my little brothers getting ready for 'story-time', for heaven's sake.

"It all started 23 years ago when I's workin at the Black Hart Inn. I's cleanin the tables when yehr father bringed yehr mother into the Inn cos she was havin trouble with her baby… yehr oldest sister."

Uh, yeah. Of course it was my eldest sister; she's the only one who is 23. Sheesh. I'm not stupid.

"Theys just traveled from the southern kingdom, Phalis, cos that's where yehr mother's parents is."

Yeah. I knew that, too. In fact, _everyone_ knows that. It's common knowledge. Good grief. Is she going to explain to me _everything_ that I already know? What am I? Four?

"Theys came through the door 'nd yehr mother looked pretty bad. Theys got her a room real quick like, cos you knows that the Inn was miles away from the palace." I nodded my head impatiently for her to continue. "When the room was ready, yehr father pushed me out of the way tellin me to move. I's thought that that was pretty rude, but theys was in a hurry cos yehr mother was gonna have her baby so I's let it go. But then, I's went upstairs to see how she was doin and I's overheard yehr father saying that he needed a bath, cos he bumped into a smelly, ugly old hag downstairs 'nd he could still smell her stench. I was really mad after that and when yehr mother had her baby _boy_ named Mitchell, I's made him a baby _girl_ named Michelle!"

"What?" I shrieked. "My eldest sister was supposed to be my brother?" This didn't make any sense at all. One would think that if she was really supposed to be a boy, she would act a lot like one. My sister Michelle was one of the biggest girly-girls I have ever met in my life.

"Yup," she said, obviously pleased with herself. "Yehr mother and father begged me to change him back so yehr father would have a boy to the throne, but I's still mad at him for callin me ugly, so I's didn'."

"Then you've had you're revenge. Change me back at once!" I demanded.

"Now, now. That's no way to talks to a lady," she retorted. I scoffed. 'Lady'? Was she serious? "Besides, I's never had my revenge on him when he throwed me out of the kingdom. Yehr sister was for him callin me ugly. _You_, the crown Prince, is for him throwin me out." Then, in a very wicked voice, she added, "Who would want to kiss a frog?" This time her laughter was so cold and evil that it ran shivers up my spine. I had to get out of here. I took a flying leap off the stool and landed about a foot away from the door. These legs really had some power in them! . . . Plus, it really wasn't that big of a place. I gathered up as much strength as I could and jumped for the exit…

Now, I wish I could say that I had made it through before the door unexpectedly slammed shut, but I can't. I was knocked out cold as I collided head first right into it.


	3. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

_The 'Great Spirit'?_

*~.....~*

The moment I came-to I could feel the aftermath of the forceful contact the door and my head had made. It felt as though my head would split in two. Not to mention the rest of my entire body was sore as well.

As if _I_ needed _another_ reason to feel worse about my whole situation.

I laid there for a while with my eyes closed wishing that the pain would subside at least for a little bit—but I guess I'm not that fortunate. After about a half an hour of continuous throbbing, I eventually found the strength to open my eyes, though with what I saw I wish I had just kept them closed. I groaned loudly not only from the pain in my head, but also because of the sight which met my eyes. The witch was standing over me and had her repulsive face inches from my own. The thought of how long she was standing there watching over me like that when I was unconscious made me shudder. It was a little unnerving.

"I's glad yehr finally awake, little Prince. You has been out for almost two days now," she said, obviously pleased.

Two days! No wonder I felt so weak. I haven't eaten anything since the apple and that lousy piece of bread from when I first entered the forest! Just thinking about food made my stomach grumble loudly. I looked up at her with helpless eyes and noticed that she had placed me upon a table. She walked away from me with a huge crooked smile plastered upon her face and began to hum out-of-tune while she danced absurdly around her shack. The horrible noise was making my headache worse. I closed my eyes to shield myself from her atrocious 'dancing' and tried to ignore her as much as I possibly could.

Then suddenly, a promising thought struck me: If I have been missing for almost two days, then my parents must have the whole Kingdom looking for me by now! My heart raced in hope, which was brutally crushed an instant later when I remembered one vitally important detail—I'm a blasted frog. How the heck are the guards, or anyone else for that matter, going to find me when they're looking for a 15 year old boy and not a slimy green amphibian? But then again, how could they know? It was up to me now to find some way to free myself from this nightmare.

I sighed heavily and glanced at the crazed witch. It was then when I realized that she appeared to have vertical lines before her. Well, that is just _fantastic_. It was bad enough that I was transformed into a frog and had collided quite forcefully into a slat of wood; she had to make it worse by putting me in a stupid cage like a criminal, or a common pet?! I glared at her through the bars of my prison, loathing her with every fiber of my tiny body. Then, my stomach gave another loud growl, which tore my attention away from my heated stare.

"Would it—" I rasped, and then coughed. The lack of water had made my throat dry. I tried clearing it, but that only scratched my throat further. I finally noticed a tin of water halfway through the bars and halfway over the side of the table. I crawled over and hesitantly opened my mouth to taste it. A freakishly long pink _thing_ rolled out from my mouth and slithered in front of me. Before I embarrassed myself by shrieking like a girl, I realized that this anomaly was my tongue. What the deuce? Not only am I a highly unattractive shade of green, disproportionate with my skinny limbs and fat body, not to mention my hideous bulging eyes; now I have this ugly pink defect for a tongue?!

Angry beyond words, I slurped up some of the water (which was actually pretty tasty) and then kicked the tin over, making a noisy clatter all the way to the ground and spilling water everywhere, which didn't exactly help my headache, but I didn't seem to care right then. The witch stopped her ridiculous twirling to stare at me curiously.

"Would it be at all possible for me to have anything to eat?" I spat bitterly. Her curious expression morphed into a vacant one as she began to look around the room. Okay, I knew she was looking at me when I spoke, but my guess was that she entirely forgot that she gave me that ability and was now trying to locate the source of the voice. I leaned back against the wall of my cage and observed her frantic search around her small shack.

"Oh Great Spirit!" she suddenly cried to the ceiling, throwing her arms up in the air. It was so unexpected that her cry actually distracted me from the constant pounding in my head. However, it only lasted for a couple seconds as one excruciating twinge brought it all back, which made me grimace in pain.

"Where is you so I's can feed you!" she continued. Then, closing her eyes, the witch slowly swayed side to side, her arms still in the air. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. This woman was getting on my last nerve. Then again… I _could_ use this to my advantage. A mischievous smile spread across my face—well, at least it would have if frogs could smile.

"Before you feed me," I began in a booming voice that surprised even me. She stopped immediately and listened with wide, shifting eyes. I continued, "You will tell me which direction I must take to get to the Kingdom Rischen for I have important business to attend to."

"Yeah, o' course I's will. Yous is to go that-a-way," she said, pointing to the corner on the left side of the door.

"Excellent. Now, what kinds of foods do you have?" I asked curiously. My hunger was overbearing.

"Why I's has lots of vegetables. No fruits, I don' likes them. Theys is too sweet. I's hates it when things is sweet. And I's gots chicken, fish… oh yeah, 'nd frog," she added with a twisted look in my direction.

"No! No frogs! Eating frogs displeases me. You do _not_ want me displeased, do you?" I asked threateningly.

"No, o' course I's don'. No frog," she replied, shaking her head. I heaved a relieved sigh. Now to get rid of this 'spirit'…

"I've decided not to eat here," I said in a casual way, "because I only eat fruit. But you will feed that frog in the cage as much as it wants. Then, you will set it free." I grinned inside at my plan.

"What?" she asked in disbelief. The witch looked like one of my younger sisters when her 7 ½ birthday party was cancelled. (Don't ask.)

"You have your orders! Do _not_ disobey me, witch! Good day!" I yelled. There was a very long and awkward pause as she looked around the room as though she was expecting something.

At long last, she said, "Is you still here, Great Spirit? I's didn' hear you go."

I stared at her in astonishment. How on earth was I to make her _hear_ the spirit leave? This was absurd. Finally, I decided to make a 'whooshing' noise to signal the spirit's departure. When I did, she looked up at the ceiling in awe. I couldn't believe that part of my plan actually worked. The noise probably wouldn't have even fooled my younger brothers, who were _six_ no less.

"Okay, little Prince. The Great Spirit says to feed yous, 'nd then lets you go," she said as she extracted a jar full of something I couldn't see from her cupboard. She walked over to my cage with the jar behind her back; a wicked smile was upon her face. I glared at her suspiciously. She took the empty water tray off of the floor and turned her back to me. I heard the lid unscrew and watched as she unmistakably dumped what ever was in the jar into the dish.

She placed the tray back in my cage and I awkwardly hopped over to it. Inside was a handful of all kinds of dead flies: houseflies, butterflies, dragonflies, horseflies. The sight was revolting. I gagged at the thought of actually eating any of it. She watched me intently with her horrid smile and began to laugh with such cruelty that it made me want to anger her no matter the consequences. She seemed to be quite sensitive to anything I did that was rude, so I made sure she was still watching me, and then I distinctly turned my nose up at it. My arrogant gesture did the trick as the witch's face began to glow a bright red.

"YOUS IS GONNA EAT THAT OR YOUS AIN' GONNA EAT NOTHIN' AT ALL!" she screamed at me. I looked at her defiantly and turned my back to her, kicking backwards so that the tray fell through the cage and clattered to the floor for the second time.

"FINE!" she screeched as she suddenly snatched the dish and threw it across the room. Her violent motion frightened me as I sat in my cage in horror wondering what she was going to do next.


	4. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

_My Not-So-Welcoming Welcome_

*~.....~*

The witch advanced towards me with fire in her wicked gray eyes. I backed myself against the cage with my own eyes growing wide and fearful. I soon forgot about my hunger. She put a key in the lock that kept me in my prison and wrenched open the door. I swallowed hard as her gnarled, warty hand reached for my trembling body. She grasped me roughly around my middle and squeezed tightly. I tried to scream but not a sound was heard.

"I's'll teach you ta be snotty to me!" she cried. She pulled back her arm and threw me as hard as she could.

Now, I don't know if her aim was extremely bad or if the window she threw me out of was supposed to be closed, but the next thing I knew I was soaring out of her house and into the chilly night sky. I landed quite heavily on my back in some extremely tall weeds and stayed where I was, not making a sound. The witch was inside muttering to herself as she looked for something. When she opened the door, I soon found out what that something was. In her hand was a lantern that had a piece of metal on the back of it, which made one single beam of light. I held my breath as the light passed just in front of where I was laying. Her search did not last, and before long, she gave up and went back inside.

Free at last!

I decided to wait until morning before I made my trip out of the forest. I hopped to a pond that I noticed in my flight out of the window and made myself comfortable on a lily pad. As I sat there, I subconsciously became aware of a fly buzzing annoyingly around my head. Before the fly knew it, my tongue unrolled from my mouth and snatched it out of the air as quick as a whip. Suddenly realizing what I had just done, I immediately tried to spit the revolting insect out. Unfortunately, I quickly found out that my tongue was sticky, as I assume all frogs' tongues were, and was unable to release the fly from its pink captor. I had no other choice but to consume the poor, inept creature. Imagine my surprise when I actually enjoyed eating it! I hungrily stared around the pond in search of more insects.

Suddenly, I noticed tiny balls of light that began floating above my head. I quickly realized that they were lightning bugs and swiftly snatched a few before they realized what was going on and flew away. With my belly finally full, I grew quite sleepy. My eyes drooped lazily and I soon fell into a dreamless slumber.

Morning came much more rapidly than I expected. A ray of sunshine found its way through the numerous trees that surrounded the witch's tiny house. It fell upon the water with unwavering brilliance, making its dark blue surface glisten magnificently. The light from the water played upon my face until I gradually opened my large bulging eyes. When my vision came into focus, I noticed the bank of the small pond not very far away from me. I decided to jump across, seeing as I really didn't feel like swimming so early in the morning. Yet, the simple action was made difficult by the thick weeds that littered the area. The weeds acted like a stiff wall which I bounced off of and landed in the water with an awkward splash.

The greatest surprise, however, was not that I fell, but how blasted cold the water was! I hastily climbed atop the lily pad and shivered uncontrollably for what felt like ages until the sun warmed my frail body. I glanced down into the pool, scowling at the surface that seemed so innocent a minute ago. My reflection caught my eye, turning my stomach. How could this happen to me? _Me_? I'm a prince for crying out loud, not some slimy, disgusting amphibian. I just _had_ to get my father to change me back! With a newfound vigor, I launched myself over the weeds.

I found the left corner by the door that the witch pointed to last night for the way to the city and began my journey out of the forest. However, it was not as easy as I had hoped. The crows watched me steadily with their cold black eyes, making me quiver with every inch I gained. The forest had a deathlike silence that was entirely disturbing. My eyes searched for danger, making me appear somewhat spastic. Then, suddenly, an old tree creaked, echoing loudly in the distance, and I swear my heart stopped beating for several seconds. My hand flew to my chest to feel if I still had a pulse (which was fast already, given my change in species; that fact alone gave me another surge of discomfort and then anger). My anger soon overtook my fear. I glared at everything as I made my way out of the forest. Stupid tree, scarin– I mean, _surpris_ing me like that. Stupid forest. Stupid witch!

Only when the trees began to disperse and the sun was definitely visible did I finally start to calm down. I flopped down on some grass just outside of the forest and lay there for a minute or two before making my way back to my palace. It was then when I realized that the sun was very bad for a frog's delicate skin. My entire body felt like it was on fire while the sun's rays beat down upon me, unrelenting. I jumped up and set out to find the nearest body of water, not caring what it was contained in; though perhaps I should have. I found myself in a bucket with no water whatsoever, and to make matters worse, as I lay in the bucket, I felt myself being lifted up and swung back and forth. The next thing I knew the bucket and I were plummeting down a dark stone tunnel until my fall came to an unexpected end into some freezing cold water for the second time that day. I wondered if frogs can die of shock.

As the bucket began to rise, I scrambled back into it hoping that the person on the other end would take me to my palace. I gazed up at my rescuer to see a very pretty girl around my age with light brown hair and eyes to match. She placed the bucket on the ledge and untied the rope from the handle. That was when I decided to peer over the rim.

"You there! Girl," I shouted. She looked behind her to see no one there and then just shrugged her shoulders. "No, no. Look in the bucket," I explained. Her eyes met mine. They bulged as mine did, but not in a pleasing manner – not that a frog's bulging eyes are pleasing, but they are normal… for a frog. _Hers_ were filled with fear. She ran away at top speed, waving her arms, and screaming hysterically the entire way.

Well, _that _didn't go as well as I had planned. Perhaps I shouldn't have spoken to her. I must admit that seeing a talking frog would probably frighten me too – well, not _frighten_, of course. Maybe surprise me, and I doubt that I would have ran away. I decided to wait until the evening before continuing, since the sun was too much for me to handle.

When the temperature dropped to a more pleasing degree, I set out once again. The rest of my journey went quite smoothly, and I finally found myself in my own private garden. I heard laughter nearby and went to go investigate. The twins, Alex and Thomas, were playing tag around Mom's prized begonias. _Well, it's nice to see that they're in such good spirits with their older brother missing_, I thought bitterly. Then, Thomas tripped over his own foot, and Alex pointed at him and laughed. I began to laugh myself and hopped closer to them.

"Oh, shove off, Alex!" Thomas yelled as he kicked at his identical brother and missed. Alex smiled and looked around to see if anyone else had seen Thomas fall. What he found was me.

"Hey, Thomas!" he exclaimed. "C'mere and look at this!" They both ran to my location. I stared up at them, wondering if they too would run away if I started to talk.

"Cool!" they said together. I took my chances.

"Hi," I began. The boys glanced at each other.

"Whoa! Did it just talk?" Thomas asked. Alex nodded, his mouth open in awe.

"Do it again!" Alex demanded of me.

"I'm not _just_ some talking frog, you know," I said. The boys were ecstatic.

"This is so cool! We've gotta go tell Antonia," said Thomas. Antonia was my eight year old sister who got me into trouble a few days ago and had me grounded to her room.

"Listen carefully," I began, trying to keep my impatience out of my voice. "I'm your brother Philip. Go get Father so he can fix this." I was expecting them to run up to the palace, but all they did was stare at me with doubtful faces.

"If you're really our brother… then prove it."

"Yeah, prove it."

Remember how I said earlier that I missed them? I take that back.

"How am I supposed to prove to you that I'm your brother when I'm a stupid frog?" I yelled with impatience. "I demand that you take me to Father immediately or face the consequences of my wrath!"

They looked at each other and silently decided something, because they nodded once in agreement.

"Okay, we'll take you," they said in unison.

"Good." . . . I didn't like the way they were looking at me; I grew skeptical. "Wait. Why?"

"We believe you," replied Thomas with a shrug of his shoulder. "Only our brother would demand to be taken somewhere and sound so bossy to us _Princes._" He picked me up and they walked towards the palace all the while discussing how cool it was having a frog for a brother. When we were through the door, one of my older sisters, Corinne, met us in the entryway.

"What do you two have?" she inquired.

"Philip," Alex replied casually.

"He's a frog now, and we gotta go get Dad so he can fix him," Thomas explained. Corinne's face contorted in disgust.

"Eeew! You are _not_ bringing a frog in here!" she squealed.

"But it's Philip! Tell her," Thomas said, bringing me up to Corinne's face.

"Don't freak out, Cor, but it is me," I said. A horrible shrill scream was her answer, along with smacking me out of Thomas's hands and running off. I hit the floor pretty hard, but that was nothing compared to what happened next. One of our maids had heard Corinne's scream (then again, who didn't?) and saw my body on the floor. She swat me with the broom in her hand, making me skid across the floor, and then ran to me to hit me again. I tried to hop out of the way, but she was too quick for me. I was hit repeatedly until I was out of the palace, and then she _still_ came after me, beating me away with the broom until I was no longer on my own grounds.

Terrific. Now what?


	5. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

_I'm not _that_ Arrogant, Am I?_

*~.....~*

So, there I was, in the middle of the road, looking up at my palace through the bars of the front gate positively seething. If my face weren't a hideous shade of green, I knew it would have been a deep scarlet. My first mode of action, of course, was conspiring ways to get the maid dismissed from her duties. I actually came up with some pretty good ideas and was basking in my brilliance, until I realized that they all required me to be _inside_ to which I cursed the maid for making me focus all of my intelligence on someone as unimportant as she. When my anger finally dissipated a little, I figured I'd better get myself inside first, and _then_ I'd play out my ideas against the maid.

I hopped around to the gardens as before, hoping that Alex and Thomas came back outside to look for me. My luck wasn't that great, though. No one was in the gardens – not even a servant. I imagined my brothers were inside telling Mom and Father how they had found me and what I was, but of course, _telling_ them did no good whatsoever as they had no proof. My parents no doubt thought that they were making up another one of their elaborate stories that they swore were true. It was all up to me.

I hopped closer and closer to the castle, constantly looking for a way in. I finally found one of the main story windows slightly open. It was actually a little too small of a crack, but I figured I could open the window wider when I actually got to that point. My main concern right now was making it to the window. It was too high to hop up to it, so I scoured the garden for something to stand on. Not ten feet away was a small statue of an earth goddess my mother valued, as it was given to her by an infamous artist. I hopped over to it to push it toward the window. The moment I began to try to push it, I realized there was no way a pathetically little being like me was ever going to move such a heavy piece of rock. I was forced to abandon what would have been a good idea were I not a completely useless type of species.

Suddenly, I heard the servant door open and saw several of them walking outside and making a huge ruckus about my mother's demands for weeding out her gardens. I made a note to myself to tell my mother about the disrespect her servants conversed with each other behind her back. Once they were through, one of them left the door open a smidge with a stick, otherwise the door would lock them out. I laughed out loud as I made my way through, careful to kick the piece of wood out of the way of the closing door.

My elated spirit of making it inside was immediately crushed as I looked around. I was completely and utterly lost. I haven't ever been to this side of the castle – I mean, really, who would knowing the type of people who vacated this side? Luckily, a man carrying some boxes higher than his head came toward me.

"Excuse me? I'm new. How do I get to the entrance hall?" I asked rather quickly, figuring that from the entrance hall I could find my way.

"Go straight down the hall; make two rights, and then a left," he replied without even a glance in my direction, which was exactly what I was hoping would happen.

I kept close to the wall, making sure to stay perfectly still when someone passed by. After the second right, I found myself pretty stealthy at not being caught while at least ten servants passed me by. Then I rounded the corner for the left turn. A maid spotted me – not the one from before, another one – and screamed. I rolled my eyes and gave a defeated sigh. I was waiting for a broom to come down on me, but to my surprise, she picked me up, and for the second time in two days, I was thrown out a window.

As I soared through the air, thanking the heavens that I was on the bottom floor, I realized that I probably would never be able to get any girl to kiss me let alone a princess; unless, of course, they were _forced_ by a King – like my father perhaps? I smirked at the thought – until a tree suddenly sprung up out of nowhere. I desperately tried to change the course of my flight, knowing perfectly well that it was impossible. I imagined myself looking like a frog swimming backwards. A harsh yelp burst from my mouth as my back hit the lower trunk of the tree. The hard, rough surface bruised my delicate skin. I lay there on my stomach for how long, I couldn't tell you.

When the pain subsided a little, I realized that some of the tree's branches reached over to one of the second story windows. I grinned – well, I grinned inside. Frogs can climb trees, right? I began to make my way up the tree, fitting my tiny fingers and toes between the cracks in the bark. Once on the branch leading toward the window, I fancied myself a look down to see how far up I was.

Ah ha… too far up.

I felt my heartbeat increase with each step I took. The situation was made worse when the branch began to swing and bend with my movement and weight since it was getting thinner and thinner. I stopped breathing altogether when I noticed the branch wasn't strong enough for me to climb all the way to the window. With one foot away, and my determination giving me courage, I took a deep breath and leaped toward the ledge.

To my relief, I landed safely on the wide ledge of the window. Now for my next problem: opening it. I searched the entire frame for even the teeniest crack that might help me at least try to get it open, but no such luck. I sat on the windowsill, pondering another way to get in, and not to mention, a way to get down. I am _not_ taking that flying leap of death twice, especially when the branches aren't near as thick as the window ledge.

Then, thank heavens, two servants came into the room: a woman and a boy just a little younger than me. I banged on the window, which made the woman turn to me. The boy followed her gaze, spotted me and smiled. She raised an eyebrow. Surprise and confusion showed in their expression, no doubt wondering what the heck a frog was doing on the second story windowsill. She lost interest, but the boy continued to stare. He watched me wave my arms about to get him to come help me but was then tapped on the shoulder by the woman, whom motioned for him to pay attention. She spoke with her hands for him to begin cleaning the room. The boy immediately set to work, and I was left to sulk on the ledge. It seemed no one would help me; I yelled in frustration.

I was just contemplating if I should stay on the ledge and wait for someone, or if I should begin thinking of ways to get down when I noticed that the boy began to head toward me. I briefly looked through the room to find the woman no longer in it. He slowly opened the window (I was exceedingly grateful that the windows swung inward) and then he stepped aside so that I could hop in. Once inside, I decided to try speaking to him.

"Um, hello." He just stared at me with a smile upon his face. It was a little unnerving, to tell you the truth. I tried again. "Listen, I know that my talking seems strange, but I'm really Prince Philip and – you aren't even listening to me." The boy's back was facing me. I assumed he was looking to see if the coast was clear, because he kept glancing up and down the halls from the doorway. When he faced me again, I noticed one of his ears was slightly deformed. It was then that I remembered there being talk throughout the castle of one of our young male servants having a birth defect, making him deaf – and it just so happened that _I_ should be the one to find him of all people. I heaved a defeated sigh and waited for his outstretched hands to pick me up. I was expecting to be kept as a pet since he seemed quite excited to have found me, but instead, he carried me outside to a small fountain situated just outside the front gate and left me there.

I sulked on the wall of the fountain, taking out my frustration on the girls who visited the stone pool. They would stride over to the edge and peer into the water while I would swim over, hidden underneath a small bit of parchment. Then, when I was close enough to them, I'd jump out with a loud croak. My laughter of how their faces twisted into utmost terror was usually drowned out by their shrieks. I even terrified an old couple. Of course, it only amused me for perhaps an hour and then I was back to sulking. There just _had_ to be a way of getting inside. I mean, I wasn't very big after all. One would think that I could easily manage my way into the huge palace inconspicuously, yet for some reason this seemed almost impossible for me to accomplish.

Suddenly, I felt hands around me and, to my utter astonishment, the person who held me began to head to the castle! I almost whooped for joy, but thought better of it. I wasn't sure how this person would react to me talking. We came in from one of the servant's doors and I was then hidden under the tunic. I had no idea where we were going, but I was inside and didn't care much to where I ended up. I suppose I should have, though.

When I was finally taken out from under the person's attire, there was about two seconds of freedom before I was put into a cage. That's right, another stupid prison. I looked up at my captor and recognized the deaf boy from earlier. Why he let me go and then decided to keep me, I'll never know, but there I was in this pathetic excuse for a living arrangement. When he left, I easily pulled out the pin that kept me locked inside.

This time, I didn't care who saw me. My main goal was reaching my parents as fast as I could. Many eyes glanced my way, but they were too involved with their chores to do anything about a frog loose in the castle. I hopped down the halls toward the throne room where I expected my parents to be. When I turned the corner, I saw one of our many squires outside the double-doors. The squire was there to announce the people who came to see my parents with their issues, which meant that my parents were in their throne room. I gave a relieved sigh. I finally made it. I hopped in front of the squire, who was several years older than I was and looked extremely bored.

"I am Prince Philip," I began in a voice full of authority. "I demand to speak with my parents, the King and Queen." He raised an eyebrow at me. I stared back at him with slight confusion. I was a little thrown off from his calm disposition of a frog suddenly talking to him.

"Is this a joke?" he asked aloud, not particularly to me. He then looked around the vacant hallway as if searching for the speaker. It was then when I realized that he thought he was the victim of a prank and believed someone hiding close by was giving the frog before him a voice. I didn't have time for this.

"Of course this isn't a joke," I began. He stared at me briefly before scanning the hall again.

"George? That's you, isn't it," he said accusingly. "This isn't funny."

I narrowed my eyes at him and said in an irritated tone, "Of course it isn't funny! Why would I make this up?! I _am_ Prince Philip" – the squire continued to search the hall – "_the frog at your feet who really is talking_" – he finally looked down at me – "and I demand that you let me pass." The squire's mixed expression was hard to read.

After a few seconds, he asked, "How do I know you're really the Crown Prince? You could be anyone trying to get by me to assassinate the King and Queen." I stared at him with my mouth slightly open, wondering why my parents hired a squire so incompetent as to think a frog could kill anyone, and more importantly, to question my being a prince.

"I'm a _frog_. What could I do to harm _anyone_?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

"You may be a frog now, but then you could change into something much more vicious."

"Oh, right, because I have that power."

"See! You even admitted it."

Is he serious? "Haven't you ever heard of sarcasm? If I had that kind of power, I wouldn't be in this situation, would I?"

He still looked skeptical, and my frustration was growing by the second. Finally I asked him, "Do you need this job?" He nodded his head. "Then don't you think the safest thing for you to do right now is let me in, seeing as how _I am the Prince_, because if you don't at this very second, I _will_ have you thrown out!" He looked at me with uncertainty in his eyes. "Besides," I continued, "If I was really here to harm my parents, do you honestly think _your_ scrawny little self would prevent me?" He grew angry at this comment.

"Fine. Have it your way, _your highness._" Then, he opened the door to announce me. "A talking frog claiming to be Prince Philip requests an audience with majesties King Jarold and Queen Annalese," the squire announced. His voice was dripping with cynicism. I peeked around the door. My theory of Alex and Thomas telling my parents about me was discarded at the light shade of puce that colored my father's face, along with the harsh words that immediately followed.

"You think that's funny?" he thundered. The squire shrank back in sudden fear; though I couldn't blame him. My father was very intimidating, especially with his temper flared.

"No, sir! The frog talks! I swear it!" he squeaked.

"I will not tolerate this sort of mockery in my palace!" he yelled. My mother gently laid a hand on his arm.

"Dear, perhaps he's telling the truth. It wouldn't do any harm to hear the poor soul out." I smiled at my mother. Of course _she'd_ listen.

My father's face was pensive, then, "Oh, very well. Send him in."

I passed by the squire, hopping awkwardly before my parents. Their faces were full of skepticism and curiosity. Stopping only yards away from them, I cleared my throat to speak. I felt my mouth open but heard no sound escape. Minutes passed by in silence. I was too afraid of their reactions of a talking frog given the responses of previous encounters I'd had with other people – my brothers and the squire excluded. My father seemed as though he'd had enough though and turned to my mother.

"I'm sorry, Anna, but this is ridiculous. A talking frog, indeed!" he said as he got up to leave.

"No, wait! Please," I cried. This caught his attention, and he actually sat back down. He looked at me with uncertainty. I began explaining everything that happened in the past few days: my walk through the forest where I met the witch, who told me what gender my sister, Michelle, was originally, and then finally, my own horrifying transformation. When I finished, they looked at me with unreadable expressions upon their faces. Finally, my father was the first to speak.

"Why do you think your mother banned anyone from going into that forest? It's so this type of situation doesn't happen!"

Oh. Oo-kay; now that I think about it, that's a _really_ good reason to make a forest forbidden. My bad. . . At least they seemed to believe me.

"You can make her change me back, though. Right?" I asked anxiously. My parents exchanged glances.

"I don't want anything else to happen to this family by her hand," my father replied.

"What? You mean that you won't send for her? What about me?" Suddenly an idea formed in my head. "What if we have a ball inviting every Princess from the Kingdoms to see if they can break the spell?"

"Absolutely not!" said my father, slamming his hand on the arm of his throne. "I will _not_ give a ball in honor of a _frog_."

"It won't be in honor of a _frog_, it will be in honor of me . . . who just happens to be a frog."

"I said no. I'd be the biggest laughingstock known throughout all the Twelve Kingdoms, and then how will my subjects take me seriously? Think more than only of yourself, Philip."

I glowered at the floor for a moment, thinking bitterly of what he just said. All I heard was 'I' and 'me' in his answer, and _he_ wants _me_ to think of more than only _myself_? Perhaps he should take his own advice. Then, the realization struck me: If he won't send for the witch or hold a ball for me, then how will I ever truly _be_ myself? I turned to my mother, expecting her to do at least _something_ to help me.

"Mom?" I said feebly. She glanced at me. Revulsion flashed in her face for an instant only to be replaced with an expressionless look. She shook her head, and then rose from her throne and left. Hurt and shock mixed together, forming a very awkward feeling in the pit of my stomach. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched her leave. I turned to my father, who looked at me with an almost sympathetic demeanor.

"You won't do anything to help me?" I asked, my voice cracking a little. My father held my gaze for a couple of seconds before shifting his eyes to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Philip," he said.

"But . . . but I'm your own son . . . and the Crown Prince," I whined pathetically.

"We had already decided that if you were never to return, Alexander will take the throne. And so he will when the time comes," he replied, keeping his eyes downcast. I backed away from him while shaking my head in disbelief. I couldn't believe my own parents disowned me just because I was a frog. Was _I_ that arrogant? I felt like running out of the room as fast as my legs could take me, but all I could do was hop. Angry with the witch and my parents, I fled the room, feeling very uncomfortable and embarrassed with each bound. My father didn't even try to stop me. He just sat there and let me go.

Outside of the palace, I sat alone on the fountain once more. I stayed there motionless, for however long I didn't know, drowning in my misery. Did I deserve this in some way? Was my behavior so horrible in the past for them to just dismiss me as they did? I admit that I was no angel, but no child is, really . . . right?

I decided to leave my kingdom, my home. Would I find a home somewhere else maybe? Hopefully? Will I ever get rid of this curse?

I let my feet lead me to wherever they were heading, which seemed to be north.


	6. Chapter Six

_Chapter Six_

_My Barefooted Cupid_

*~.....~*

I was unaware of how long I traveled as I was forced to rest every now and then – apparently frogs tire easily and my legs burned in protest with every half mile. It was extremely tedious. I lost track of the days that passed by, concerning myself only with the distance I put between me and my _ex_-parents.

When I finally felt like I could go on no longer, my feet carried me to a pond lined with cattails and long, green grasses. The water was warm and clearer than I've ever seen in a pond. It was perfect. The area was quiet and it seemed as though I was the pond's only inhabitant with the exception of a few small fish, but they weren't very much company so they might as well have been nonexistent.

After a couple days rest, I ventured out to explore my surroundings. There was a giant mass of vines not too far away that caught my attention when I arrived, and I was curious to what it might actually be. As I drew closer, I realized that the vines outlined what appeared to be a huge house, or rather, a palace. It seemed to be abandoned for many years and stayed uninhabited for five more years beyond that.

Five years. That is how long since I've discovered my little pond. Those few fish became quite a few more, swimming lazily about without a purpose. At least, that's how I view their tedious efforts to make a difference in the world. But enough about them. The real excitement is the moment I awoke this morning. I was shocked to discover half of the vines gone from the palace walls. There were also servants outside, tidying up the weed-ravaged gardens and beating the many dusty rugs and furniture from inside the filthy palace. But what would one expect after being abandoned for so many years?

Anyway, these activities were making me antsy, since I haven't seen people in over five years. Why, one would ask? Well, I suppose that I just grew sick of people, and I gave up. I know, I know; it isn't really what one likes to hear, but I guess I felt that my ever finding a princess to fall in love with a frog and then actually kiss one was too farfetched to try and live out. It's really quite depressing now that I think about it, but one can always blame my parents. I know I did.

Once the palace began to look more like a palace, I noticed that the family began to move in. I couldn't really see them, of course, because my pond was in the back of the palace and, usually, people from a high status used the front door rather than the back. What I did note was the behavior of the servants. Before, they were carefree and did what they wanted when they wanted, but now, their expressions were more submissive and their actions limited.

Almost a week had passed and the excitement I had felt dissipated some, since none had bothered to visit my pond. I felt secluded, though people were only yards away. I thought about checking the palace out myself, but I never went through with it. I had too many bad reactions with what form I was and the fact that I could speak. I finally decided to ignore my new neighbors, since they took no notice of me and my beautiful pond, which I figured would in any case attract _someone_.

A full two weeks passed by and I was growing ever impatient. My curiosity was getting the better of me, as I wished every so often for at least one person to come and visit, even for only a few minutes. I also wanted to know who exactly occupied the palace. Was it nobility or royalty? And if it was royalty, perhaps a princess was near by . . .

Then, it happened. I was sitting on a lily pad watching the clouds go by (yes, that's how bored I was, okay?) and I heard a door slam. I looked to the palace to find a girl walking toward my pond! She looked to be a little younger than I was, my guess would be around 18 or 19, and wore a simple dress without any shoes. Her light brown hair was in one long braid, which ended at her lower back. When she came to my pond, she sat down bringing her knees to her chest. I watched her from my place on the lily pad. She gazed blankly into the water for a little while before the girl put her face in her arms and began to sob, making her whole body tremble.

Unable to stop myself, I asked as gently as I could, "Why are you crying?" My voice was deeper than I remembered, making me question if it was actually mine. She looked up and around, her eyes finally resting on me. They were quite stunning, her eyes. Her tears made them shine, bringing out their bright, blue-green color. Suddenly, her eyebrows met in confusion.

"Did a frog just talk to me?" she muttered to herself. Then she laughed and added, "Don't be ridiculous, Lia. Frog's can't talk. Oh my God, stop talking to yourself."

I laughed quietly to myself. "Actually," I said. "I asked you a question." Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened slightly as though about to scream. "Please don't."

After a few moments, the shock on her face seemed to disappear a little. She wiped the tears from her eyes and said, "Don't what?"

"Scream. I know my talking is difficult to grasp, but if it helps, I'm not really a frog."

"I wasn't going to scream," she replied testily. "Having a frog talk is quite unexpected, but honestly, who would scream?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Seriously?" she asked, amused. I nodded. "Wow. I bet they were all women, too, huh?"

"Umm…" I thought back. "There was this old couple, but for the most part, yeah. They were all girls."

"Figures," she scoffed. "Some people. . . . So, what happened to you, anyway?" she asked.

"I was transformed by a witch."

"Why? What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything. My father did." She gave me a curious look. "It's kind of a long story." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't have anywhere I need to be."

"Well, okay."

I was only going to tell her the basics but then ended up telling her everything that happened to me from being turned into a frog until now. She was really easy to talk to. Plus, I haven't had a conversation with anyone in over five years, so I was enjoying it. When I finished, she was looking at me with a mixture of expressions. It was really quite amazing how many I found, but the one that showed through the most was one of concern, which pleased me.

"Wait, your father wouldn't do anything to help you?" she asked. I shook my head. "That's horrible! It was kind of his fault that this happened to you in the first place. I mean, if he didn't banish her, she wouldn't have any reason to seek revenge."

"Yes, but my mother did forbid anyone from going into the forest. I always thought it was because of the rumors of horrible creatures that resided in the forest, but it turns out, it was because of the witch."

"I can't believe they just disowned you like that. No wonder you're miles away from them. I don't know what I'd do if my parents even _thought _about disowning me."

"Yeah. I still can't believe it myself. I mean, I was the Crown Prince." Skepticism flashed in her face, and she bit her bottom lip. My guess was to keep herself from laughing, because her eyes were full of amusement.

"I'm sorry. You were what?"

"The Crown Prince," I repeated seriously. "Didn't I mention that?" She shook her head. "Oh. Well, I was."

"So, you're a prince?" she asked, her voice hinted with cynicism. I frowned at her.

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I snapped.

"Come on, who's ever heard of a frog prince?"

Hmm… She actually has a good point.

"All right, fine. But I really am." She looked pensive.

"I was a little confused as to why it _has_ to be a princess to break your enchantment, but your being a prince _does_ make that a little clearer. Plus, your parents having the authority to banish witches and forbid people from doing something is more believable if they were royalty. . . . I guess I'll trust that you're telling the truth."

"Thank you. . . . I'm Philip, by the way."

"Lia."

"So, uh, Lia, why were you crying earlier?"

"Oh, that. It was nothing. A bit silly, really."

"Come on, I told you my story. Please?"

"Well, I just had a fight with my mother about nothing important. She doesn't like the way I dress or act because of who I—"

Suddenly, a woman with long auburn tresses dressed in a soft green, expensive-looking gown walked toward us. Lia was mumbling something, but I wasn't really paying attention. As the woman drew nearer, I noticed she had gorgeous blue eyes and soft pink lips. She looked like an angel from heaven.

"Wow," I said breathlessly. "Lia, who is that?" Lia glanced over her shoulder.

"Oh. That's Rosalyn," she said. Then she added, "Were you even listening to me earlier?"

"Rosalyn," I repeated.

"Obviously not."

"Is she nobility or royalty?" I asked with eager anticipation.

"She's a princess. Why?"

"Lia, you have to help me to get her to break my spell."

"Her? Philip, are you sure you want her? She's very . . . well, let's just say that she thinks very highly of herself."

"Really? She seems so . . . wonderful. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah, sure. You'd better be quiet. She's almost here and I'm pretty sure she's going to be one of those girls who scream when hearing a talking frog." I nodded my head. I didn't think I could say anything with the princess that close to me, anyway.

"Lia, there you are. Why are you out here?" Rosalyn asked. Her voice seemed unearthly, and it sent my heart into a wild frenzy.

"Just thinking," was Lia's simple reply.

"Well, I need your help with something. Meet me in my room."

"All right, I'll be there in a minute."

"Sooner," she stated, then turned on her heel and headed back to the palace. "Lia?" she called over her shoulder.

"I'm right behind you," Lia answered with a hint of irritation. Rosalyn walked with such grace that it almost looked as though she glided.

"Philip!" Lia shouted, her voice piercing into my thoughts. I looked at the girl, whose expression showed utmost annoyance.

"What? Why are you yelling?"

"I called your name three times now."

"Oh. Well, I was" – My eyes focused on Rosalyn once more before she disappeared into the palace – "distracted."

"Yeah, I can see that," she said, her tone indifferent.

"What were you saying?"

"I was telling you that I had better go."

"Yeah, okay. Will you come back? I would like to go over how you can help me win over Rosalyn." She looked at me. Her expression was unreadable.

"That's the _only_ reason?" she asked.

"No." I paused for a second, thinking of what she probably wanted to hear. "And I like talking to you." She bit her bottom lip again. Although, this time I think it was in thought. "Please?" I begged.

"_Maybe_ I'll come tomorrow."

"Yes!"

"I said maybe," she stated firmly, as she got up to leave.

"Okay," I said, and grinned broadly to myself, somehow knowing that she would. Things were finally looking up for me.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Chapter Seven_

_I Am _Not_ Naïve!_

*~.....~*

I awoke the next morning to the soft twittering of birds as they flitted to and from the tree branches high above. I felt as though I was with them, floating through the branches. My stomach squirmed as I thought of Rosalyn.

"Philip," came Lia's voice. I looked up at her. She looked the same as yesterday, bare feet and all. It was uncommon for a lady to show any skin but her lower arms around a man; however, I figured that since I was a frog, she felt like she didn't have to. Plus, she was here to help me win Rosalyn over, so I didn't really care.

"You came! This is great! So, this is what I was thinking, you tell her some story to get her to kiss me and then—"

"Hold it, Romeo. I never agreed to help you _trick_ Rosalyn into kissing you." I felt myself gaping at her and quickly closed my mouth.

"What? Then how else do you think she will?"

"Honestly? I have every doubt she will ever come _near_ you, let alone kiss you."

Ouch. That was a little harsh. She didn't say it in an unkind tone, but it still felt as though she did. The hurt I felt must have shown on my face because she sat down next to the edge of the pond and said in a sympathetic tone, "Oh, I'm sorry, Philip. It's nothing personal. She just doesn't like frogs. Didn't you notice the grimace she wore when looking at you?"

She grimaced when she saw me? "No," I said weakly.

"Look, I know Rosalyn. I grew up with her, and to tell you the truth, she's quite prissy. Don't get me wrong, she has her moments, but she mostly does everything for herself."

"Really? She doesn't seem that way." I wanted to change the subject. "Do you often speak about your princess so openly? I mean, if she ever heard anything negative that you said, wouldn't you be out of a job? or even . . . killed?"

"Ha," she scoffed. "She wishes."

This confused me. "What do you mean 'she wishes'? She's the Princess. She can pretty much do whatever she wants, can't she?"

"Well, she'd like to kill me sometimes, but that's just normal," she said, which only deepened my confusion.

"Normal? In what way?"

"In her words, I 'pester her', and I don't, really. She's just stuck on herself and would like me to look up to her, yet I can't see why I would."

"And how can she do nothing about this? I mean, you are only a servant, right?" She looked at me seeming quite offended.

"I am not a servant," she stated.

Oh, whoops. My bad.

"Sorry. I just assumed by your apparel and the way you obeyed her orders that you were."

"Well, I'm not," she said.

"Then who are you?"

"Maybe if I tell Rosalyn of a prince who wishes to know her better? But it will take more that only my word."

I could tell she was hiding something from me, but we were back on the subject of getting Rosalyn to break my spell so I ignored it.

"What if you write her letters? I would, but I don't think I can." Lia shook her head.

"She knows my handwriting and isn't too fond of writing herself."

"She could get someone to write her letters for her," I suggested.

"I suppose that's true . . . but Rosalyn will still know my handwriting."

"Unless we get someone to write our letters as well."

"But who could we trust not to give our secret away?" Her expression was pensive. "You knew how to write at one time, right?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then maybe we can work together teaching you how to write as you are now, as a frog. You do have thumbs, do you not?"

I thought about it for a bit while staring down at my hand. My tiny palm and long fingers almost made me doubt I could even hold a pen, but then I grasped my thigh with it – the only part of my body that was thick enough to pass as a pen as my arms were considerably skinnier – and I nodded my head. "You know, this might actually work."

"Yes, but it will be awfully hard to teach you out here, and it will look extremely odd for anyone to see me trying to teach a frog how to write. It would ruin my reputation."

"You have a reputation to uphold?" She smiled at me and her eyes seemed mischievous.

"I think the only solution is for me to sneak you into my room where we won't be bothered."

I narrowed my eyes at her, noticing how she squirmed under my stare but then shrugged it off. I decided to ask her about it later, seeing as though she just offered to take me into the palace, making me closer to Rosalyn, and I didn't want to make her change her mind.

"All right. I'm with you." I hopped off of my lily pad and dove into the pond, reappearing on the shore next to her. She moved back a little from what seemed to be out of fear. I looked at her curiously.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not afraid. I'm just a little unsure about holding you is all." I smiled to myself and hopped closer to her.

"Come on, then. Let's go." Her expression was almost unreadable as she cautiously reached her hand toward me. When her fingertips were less than an inch away, I watched her swallow hard. Then, with one quick motion she ran a finger down my back and drew her hand away.

"That felt so weird."

"Well, do you think you have enough courage to pick me up? Because I'm sure that my hopping alongside you would look pretty suspicious." She glared at me.

"I do not need to gather _courage_. I'm _not_ scared." And with that she scooped me up and carried me to the palace. I looked up to find somewhat of a grimace on her face as we headed toward one of the side doors.

"You aren't a servant, yet you use servant entry ways?"

"Shush! No one must hear you," she hissed. We took what I assumed were all the back ways to her room and finally slipped through a door. She locked it behind her and we faced a very spacious room. It had two huge windows, one looking east, the other east with a very expensive looking desk in front of it. A big four-posture bed was up against the wall next to the entrance door that had light green and pink bedding with lilies embroidered on the quilt. There was a couch and two arm chairs by a fireplace with a small table, and a wardrobe on the south wall with a door leading to something. I figured it was her bathroom.

"This is _your_ room?" I asked in a surprised voice.

"I told you I wasn't a servant." She set me down on the desk and sat down in the chair in front of me.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know the truth.

"All right, that's it! You grew up with Princess Rosalyn, you talk about her behind her back, yet she can't do anything about it if she ever caught you doing so, and you live in the palace in a room fit for a princess? No more evading my question! Who are you exactly?"

"Okay, okay. Jeez. You're almost as bad as Rosalyn when she wants to know something and I won't tell her." She paused for a moment, as though thinking of what or how to say what she was about to tell me. "My parents are very close to the king and queen, and that's why I grew up with Rosalyn. They wanted us to be friends from the beginning, and we were for awhile, until she began to notice how much prettier she was than I and felt like I was beneath her."

"Maybe you have her all wrong. I mean, how can someone who looks like an angel not behave like one?"

"Oh, Philip. It's almost cute how naïve you are."

"Thank—hey! Wait a minute. I'm not naïve!"

"Yeah, okay. Well, I have to go down for midday meal," she said, and headed to her wardrobe, grabbed a dress and closed the door to her bathroom. She came out five minutes later in a deep pink evening dress and slipped on some shoes. Her hair was still in the braid. "Try not to make a mess," she called over her shoulder as she walked out her door.

A mess? Me make a mess? How old am I? Seven? And I'm not naïve. Who did she think she was, anyway?

I sat with my arms crossed (well, as much as I could, being a frog), glaring at the door for a couple minutes until my stomach grumbled. Hmm . . . Now that she mentioned it. Food sounded good. I haven't eaten in a couple hours. I wonder if she would bring me anything back. I'd been eating insects for so long that real food, human food, sounded really good.

To keep my mind off my stomach, I decided to explore the desk a little. The three small cupboards on the shelf above her desk caught my attention, so I awkwardly climbed up the side to open the first, which held spare bits of parchment. I tried the middle one next, but its door was a little stuck. I heaved at it, loosening it only a small amount. Then I thought of an idea. I climbed down from the shelf and began hopping up to the door of the middle cupboard and pushing myself off of it with my feet to test it out first. When the shelf didn't move, I tried holding onto the handle of the door while I pushed myself off, always using more strength than the last time. The door loosened each time but still wouldn't open. Finally growing tired, I gave it one more try, really putting a lot of my strength in this last time.

Very, _very_ bad idea.

The door swung open with me still dangling on it – so really, my idea worked – but not without a price. The shelf rocked dangerously back and forth, and I realized now that it wasn't up against the wall like I thought. The items in the middle cupboard, which unfortunately for me were ink bottles, came crashing down, splattering their contents all over the place. I hopped over to try to catch the others before they fell but only ended up slipping in the ink and falling in the puddles. Then, the door of the first cupboard swung open and before I knew it the entire desk was covered in ink and parchment. At long last, the shelf stopped rocking, and I thanked the heavens because I was sure it was going to fall over. Just then I heard a shrill voice come from the direction of the door.

"Philip!" I looked at Lia, whose expression made my stomach twist in shame and embarrassment at what I did. I felt even worse when I noticed her holding a plate of food in her hands, no doubt for me. "I asked you not to make a mess, and what do you do?! Seriously, how old are you? Seven?"

Whoa. That sounded oddly familiar.

I looked at the floor and said in a low voice, "I'm really, very sorry, Lia. I'll help you clean it up." I dared to look into her eyes. They were angry but I noticed another emotion that I couldn't quite place at that moment.

Then she walked over, placed the plate of food on her bed, and came toward me. "Are you hurt?"

I was not expecting that question. "What?"

"Are you hurt?" she asked again, only this time with a slight irritation in her tone.

"No."

"There's broken glass everywhere. I'm surprised you escaped without a scratch." She picked me up, took a cloth from her wardrobe and set me upon it on the floor. "Don't move from this cloth. I don't need you soiling anything else of mine." She then left her room.

While she was away, I began trying to clean the ink off with the cloth, but I didn't have much luck. The ink dried too quickly. At last, Lia came back bringing with her a bowl just big enough for me to fit in. When she set it down, I was amazed to see a white liquid in it.

"Uh, Lia? Why is there milk in the bowl?" She didn't say anything, picked me up, and put me in the bowl. "Cold! It's cold!" I was about to climb out, when I noticed that the milk began to turn gray. I rubbed my arms in the milk and watched as the ink washed right off. "This is amazing! How did you know milk could do this?"

"It was entirely by chance, actually. You see, I had supper in my room one evening because I was busy writing, and I brought with me a glass of milk to my desk. I accidentally spilt it all over my hands, which were covered in ink by writing so much, and I realized how easily the ink came off. With water, barely any of the ink could be removed; it stained my hands."

"Well, it's very neat," I commented. After my milk bath, I ate some of the dinner Lia brought up for me, but since my stomach wasn't used to human food, I – well, let's just say that I saw the food again and in a way that wasn't too appealing. I was grateful towards Lia as she stayed with me the whole time taking care of me. I felt incredibly lucky to have found a friend like her, and I hoped that even if Rosalyn didn't take any interest in me, we could still maintain our friendship.


	8. Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

_An Arrangement of Sorts _

*~.....~*

I awoke the next morning from my place on the bedside table. Lia had placed a soft, bundled up scarf on the table for my bed and also a small bowl of water so that I may wet my skin when it became too dry. Lia was still asleep to which I was somewhat thankful, since the moment I was feeling better yesterday she scolded me something awful. The ink in her _cream-colored carpet_, as she reminded me in every other sentence of her lecture, was stained, never to lift, and not to mention her desk and chair as well. Instead of yelling at me, however, she used a disappointed tone, which I thought made it seem so much worse. She and one of the maids (she wouldn't allow me to help, as I was too little and would get in the way) cleaned up all of the broken ink bottles, which resulted in cries of pain every once in a while as the glass cut their fingers. I had to listen to it through the door of her bathroom, as my presence would seem awkward to the maid; not to mention, it would probably freak her out a bit. Their cries made me feel even more terrible of what I had done. I found it to be one of the worst feelings in the world to have Lia disappointed in me.

I heard Lia begin to awaken and looked over at her, noting how pretty she looked when in a peaceful state and not infuriated, like yesterday. However, her beauty cannot compare with that of the princess, to be sure. Rosalyn possesses a beauty that rivals Aphrodite's and – hmm . . . I wonder why she hasn't a suitor yet? I would figure that every prince, and any male who isn't, would be fawning over her. I'll have to ask Lia when she is fully awake. I turned back to her and she stared at me with her bright, blue-green eyes. With my guilt still occupying a good portion of my stomach, I couldn't actually look her straight in the eyes and lowered mine.

"Lia, I'm," I began awkwardly, "I'm _really_ sorry about—" She held up her hand to silence me.

"Don't Philip. Let's not start the day with my being upset with you, as you are sure to do if you keep bringing up that incident, even if you are apologizing."

I nodded my head in understanding. Along with her scolding about her carpet, she also informed me that she only receives four bottles of ink a month, and I broke three last night, which she only received six days ago. She'll have to wait a whole three weeks before another shipment comes. Until then, she'd have to buy the cheap, watered down kind sold in town if we were to proceed with my lessons, as she will keep the last bottle for her own needs.

"Besides," she continued lightly, "I have been wanting a new desk, but I figured that I'd wait until the one I have now was worn down. Therefore, as you completely ruined it" – I winced at the slightly harsh tone her voice suddenly took then – "I will finally ask for one. . . . Now turn around so that I may dress."

The morning passed rather slowly. Lia was busy downstairs so I was left to myself in her room again, but not before she threatened that if I ruin one more thing of hers, I could kiss my chance of breaking my enchantment farewell instead of kissing Princess Rosalyn.

Lia came back right when the hunger pains began. Instead of food, however, she carried three bottles of ink with her. When she looked around, the expression on her face was one of uncertainty and surprise, which confused me . . . that is, until she spoke.

"Wow. My room is exactly how I left it," she said. My face fell and I rolled my eyes.

"Very funny," I replied. "Yesterday was a freak accident. Besides, you have to keep in mind that I haven't been around human things for five years."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, gently tossing the bottles on her bed.

"Yeah, and—"

"And because of that reason," she cut in, "you feel like you have to explore everything."

"Exactly."

"Even if certain things are damaged, it doesn't matter because it's all part of your 'exploration'."

"Ri—hey! I said I was sorry at _least_ a dozen times. I didn't mean for any of that to happen."

"I know. I'm only kidding," she said, smiling deviously – which, by the way, made her look very cute, and making _me_ smile . . . well, I was smiling inside. This was one of the only times I was thankful that frogs can't smile. I didn't want her to know I was smiling because of her.

She gathered the bottles from the bed and brought them to her desk. "These," she began, "are very watery, smear easily and take much longer to dry, but we're only practicing with them. When you write the real letter, I'll let you use the good ink out of my last bottle."

"Really? Wow, thanks."

"Yeah, well if we use the cheap ink, she won't give you a second glance."

"I thought you said that she doesn't write much?" I asked.

"She doesn't."

"Then how would she know if we used good ink or bad ink?"

She looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Then, she uncorked one of the cheap ink bottles, dipped a quill in the black liquid, and wrote my name on the parchment. I looked at the ink and then looked at her and then shrugged my shoulders.

"I still don't understand how she would know."

"This," she gestured to the writing, "isn't strange to you?"

I shook my head, completely confused. I couldn't see how this ink was different from the ink my tutor had me use when I was a boy. She gazed at me in bewilderment.

"Wow," she said and then took her last bottle of good ink from her desk, saying, "I mean, I thought the markets came out with this ink more than five years ago, but I suppose I could be wrong. . . . Either that or your family wasn't able to get the ink from the shipments that arrived."

I glared at her then and said, "My family is one of the most highly respected royals of the entire continent. I'm sure they would have had the first choice of the best ink."

"All right, all right," she said putting her hands up in a 'no offense' gesture. "I didn't mean to suggest that your family wasn't esteemed." I relaxed a little. I guess I did become a bit more heated than was necessary. "By the way," she continued, "who exactly is your family?"

"My parents were King Jarold and Queen Annalese. Their Kingdom actually isn't very far from here." If she noticed that I used the past tense for my parents, she ignored it. I had told her about them disowning me. Perhaps she didn't think anything of it.

She pinched her bottom lip in thought. She looked so cute with the little crinkles on her forehead and her eyes searching for whatever her thoughts were trying to grasp. Wait- what? What am I thinking? I like _Rosalyn_, remember? Anyway…

"I've heard of them," she said. Then she gasped. "Oh my gosh! You're the boy that disappeared! I remember now. It was all over the continent. I can't believe it! You really are a prince!"

"You doubted me?" I felt a little hurt.

"Well, I mean… it isn't very common for a prince, especially a crown prince, to be turned into a frog. Can you really blame me?"

"You should have trusted me," I said in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, but you could have only been an ordinary frog that became enchanted somehow."

"Then how do you explain my wanting of a princess to break my spell?"

She winced before she said hesitantly, "That you wanted to brag to all of your frog buddies that you kissed a princess?"

"And you, you were going to subject your Princess Rosalyn to thinking I was a prince and let her kiss me?"

"I know it sounds bad, but you have no idea what it's like to grow up with her; and besides, I have to admit that I was a little curious."

I was growing more and more angry with her, and I think she could see it because she got down on her knees so that her face was level with mine and said softly, "Oh, Philip. Please don't be mad. I'm really, very sorry."

I meant to stay angry with her for a very long while, but when I looked up into her eyes, I could see how much she really was sorry, and I couldn't help but feel all of my anger fade away. I looked down and shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you."

Her eyes lit up and a smile spread upon her lips. "Thanks."

"So," I began, "how is it that this ink is different from the good ink?"

She smiled again and grabbed the bottle of good ink. After taking the cork from the bottle and dipping in the quill, she wrote my name again right under the first time. I could tell instantly why she had reacted to my ignorance the way she did. Instead of the gray lettering I was used to, the ink was black. Not just any black, either, but a dark midnight black.

"Oh," was all I could say.

"Yeah, and this stuff is permanent, too, which is why I was so upset about my things being drenched in it." We looked over at her ink covered desk. "Papa insists on getting me the best made desk," she said all of the sudden.

"Wait, your father is here?"

"Of course he's here; he lives here." She laughed, most likely because of the expression on my face. "What?" she asked. "You didn't think I was here by myself, did you?"

I shrugged. My pride was a little hurt from her laughing at me and so I turned away from her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Come on," she said scooping me up. "Let's go to the pond. I bet you're starving."

… … … … …

The next afternoon we were at the pond again after a whole morning of my sorry attempt at the alphabet. Once my stomach was full of some very unlucky bugs, Lia picked me up and began to carry me back toward the palace.

"It seems like you're getting used to carrying me," I said.

She grinned down at me and replied, "Yes, well, you're not so bad after all." I smiled at her. "Now hush. I don't need anyone to hear you."

We got as far as the entrance hall when Rosalyn intercepted us. She stood right in our way to go upstairs.

"Hello, Lia. Where are you off to?" she asked. Lia dropped me in her pocket.

"Just heading to my room, if you don't mind," Lia replied, trying to push through.

"Well, I do. When is that prince you told me about going to write me?"

"I'm not sure, but things like that take time. You'll just have to be patient."

"Humph, well anyway, Father wants to see you," she said.

My eyebrows met in confusion. 'Father'? What does that mean?

"Oh? What does he want?" asked Lia.

"How should I know?" Rosalyn said kind of rudely. Out of the gap from the pocket I was in, I saw Rosalyn examining her nails as though bored with the conversation. "He just said that if I saw you to tell you that he wants to see you."

"Oh, okay. Well, will you tell him that I'll be right there?"

"I'm not a messenger! I'm a princess! Tell him yourself," Rosalyn snapped, then spun on her heel and left.

Lia closed her eyes. My guess was that she was counting to ten to calm herself. After she took a deep breath, she opened her eyes and then proceeded up the stairs. When we were safe in her room, I chuckled.

"She certainly has spirit," I said. Lia narrowed her eyes at me.

"Yes, well, you can laugh," she said. "Honestly, Philip, what do you see in her? I mean, sure she's beautiful, but if you knew what she's really like—"

"I was wondering," I said, interrupting. "What did she mean by 'Father wants to see you'?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she didn't say _her_ father wanted to see you, she just said 'Father', as though her father was your father as well."

"Don't be ridiculous, Philip. Everyone knows who she is; she doesn't really have to say _her_ father for me to know that _her_ father wants to see me. Besides, look at me. Do I really look like a princess?"

I did look at her. From her braided, light brown hair to her bare feet. It was true that she wasn't dressed as a princess, but she did carry herself like one. But that could only be from growing up with a princess. I lowered my eyes.

"I guess not."

"Okay then. I'll be right back."

… … … … …

Lia walked down the hall from her room. She hated deceiving Philip, but she didn't want him to know who she really was. He'll understand later… she hoped. She arrived at the King's study to find not only the King, but the Queen, too. They were both poring over a piece of parchment. She knocked on the open door. Both of them raised their heads.

"Ah, Lilian. Come on in," the King, or rather, her father replied.

"Rosalyn said that you needed to see me, Papa?" Lia asked.

"Yes, we did. I found the perfect desk for you. Come look," he said.

"Already?" She walked over and gazed upon the parchment. It didn't look at all like a desk. It looked like some sort of treaty and she caught the words 'betrothed', 'Prince Leopold', and her own name before he picked it up and handed it to her mother.

"Oh, no, Lily. Not that," he said, using his nickname for her. "I meant this one." He put another piece of parchment in front of her that had a drawing of a beautiful mahogany desk with intricate carvings on it.

"This is beautiful, Papa, but I'm more interested in what Mom has in her hand."

The King shifted uneasily. "Oh, well, you see—"

"It's a marriage proposition, sweetheart," her mother cut in.

"What?" asked Lia, completely taken off guard.

"Your father thought it would be good to merge forces with the neighboring Kingdom, but the only way they will is if their son, Leopold marries one of our daughters. Rosalyn declined it immediately, saying something about already having a prince interested in her. An idea you planted in her head, I'm to gather."

"Yes. I'm told he's writing her a letter. You're not going to make me do this, are you? I mean, you two were lucky with this whole arranged marriage thing. It doesn't mean that I'm necessarily going to have what you two have."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lily," replied her father. "It wasn't our idea. Besides, it hasn't been made official."

Lia thought about this for several minutes. Defeated, she then said, "No, but if we refuse, they could take it a different way than a simple refusal." She sighed. "I have no choice but to accept." Her parents smiled.

"Spoken like a true royal leader," her father said with pride.

"If only she would dress like one," said her mother. Lia laughed. Her apparel was an ongoing battle with her and her mother.

"When does the marriage take place?" Lia asked.

"A month after we give them our answer," replied her father.

Lia sighed again. "The desk is beautiful, Papa. Is it ready to be moved in?" He nodded his head. "Then I should go and clear out the desk in my room, so the servants may move that one out and move the new one in." She began to make her way to the door before her mother called to her.

"Lilian, darling… it won't be as bad as it seems. You'll see."

Lia smiled back and then left the room.


	9. Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

_Suspicions_

*~.....~*

Lia came through the door with a crestfallen expression upon her pretty face. I almost felt like running over and embracing her. But then I thought how ridiculous it would look for me to _hop_ over to her and embrace her ankle, so I reverted to asking her of her troubles instead.

"Lia? What's wrong?"

She looked up at me and put on a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Nothing," she said shrugging her shoulders. "Everything's fine."

"I don't believe you." Her smile faltered, and she lowered her head.

"Yeah, well, there's nothing I can do about it now, so…" She sat on her bed, looking at her feet.

"I don't understand."

"I really don't feel like talking about it right now, please," she said softly. I nodded my head in understanding.

"All right… Uh, I'm going to practice my alphabet." I hopped over to the chair and then onto the desk. A couple pieces of parchment, a bottle of uncorked ink, and a quill were already waiting for me. Other sheets of parchment that I had written on earlier that morning lay scattered about. I looked over my attempts at the alphabet. They weren't all bad, really. For a frog, I imagined I was doing fairly well. Though for the age of twenty, my handwriting looked like a child's.

Lia joined me at the desk and also looked over my letters. "You're getting a little better, Philip, but it could still use some improvement." I nodded my head. "Perhaps if you tried a different way in holding the quill, it will come easier to you."

"In what way?" I asked.

"Well, instead of gripping it with your entire hand, hold the quill like this," she said, picking up a quill and holding it delicately between her thumb and first two fingers while resting it on her third.

I looked down at my own hand to figure out how I would be able to hold and write that way with only four fingers altogether. She must have understood what I was thinking, because she giggled and said, "Well, perhaps you can try to hold it between your thumb and only one finger."

"All right, I'll try," I replied while picking up the quill she laid down next to me. The new grip felt awkward after writing the other way for a time, but after I became used to it, I watched in amazement as the quill glided over the paper. My lines held no squiggles or weird marks and my letters looped elegantly.

"Wow," I heard Lia say.

"I didn't even write this well as a human. I guess the grip really does make a difference. Thanks."

"I do what I can," she replied, smiling. I laughed. "So," she continued, "I suppose it won't be long until I give Rosalyn your love letter."

Rosalyn. Even her name was beautiful. I thought back to only a short hour ago when I saw her for the second time. Her blue eyes sparkled while her voice expressed her natural authority over people. Although I must admit that I was taken back a little when she snapped at Lia. After all, she was only asking a simple question. Then again, Lia should know her place when speaking to a princess. But what exactly was Lia's place in the palace? This question bothered me more and more, and I was still suspicious of the way Rosalyn said 'father'.

"Philip?" Lia's voice shook me from my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You had that glazed look again, like when you daydream about Rosalyn."

"Oh, did I? Sorry. What were you saying?"

She slowly shook her head with a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Never mind," she said. Her voice was almost laughing. "You really are hopeless when we talk about her."

"I am not." She only smiled more, lighting up her eyes. A sudden warmth spread through me, which was extremely confusing. She began to clear off the desk, and it was a while before I realized I was just staring at her, smiling like a blithering idiot – well, at least that's what I imagined I looked like. What was wrong with me?

Lia glanced at me, thankfully after I wiped the stupid look off my face, and said, "Some servants should be up any moment to take this desk and replace it with my new one, so I need you to hop down, please."

"Right," I said as I leapt off the desk and settled myself on her bed. "I'd help, but I don't think I could really do much."

"It's all right. I kind of figured." She gathered all the paper in her arms and headed for the bed when a brief knocking sounded from her door. "Just a minute!" she answered, putting the parchment down next to me. "Don't say anything, and stay out of sight," she whispered before walking to her door.

I hopped to where I slept and buried myself in the scarf that improvised as my bed, leaving just enough of a slit so I could see and breathe. Voices were muffled, though, as the servants came and went, and more than once I saw Lia glance toward me with an uneasy expression each time it seemed as though a servant addressed her. I soon succumbed to my curiosity and gradually squirmed out of the scarf. The servants were just setting down the new desk in the old one's place.

"Thank you. You may leave without a word," she ordered, which confused me even further. What a strange request. They bowed to her and left in silence, and she closed the door behind them.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

Her eyes grew wide. "What was what about? What did you hear?"

"You're acting very strange. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I must be hungry. I haven't eaten supper yet. In fact," she added, looking out the window. "I'm late, so I'll see you afterward." She headed for her door.

"Shouldn't you change first?" She glanced down at her simple dress and bare feet.

"Oh, right." She doubled back and selected a more proper dress from her wardrobe and a pair of high-heeled shoes. I turned around while she changed.

"Don't think your going to supper is going to make me forget your weird behavior. We're talking when you get back."

"Sure, fine. We'll talk later," she replied hurriedly. A moment later I heard her door close. I whipped around to find her gone. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to figure out why she was acting so strange, but no matter how hard I thought, nothing came to mind.

An hour later, Lia's door opened, revealing the girl. She seemed exhausted.

"So, you ready to tell me yet?" She gazed over at me giving me a look, and I almost felt bad for asking. Almost. I wanted to know.

"Tell you what?" she asked innocently.

"Why you were acting so weird."

"Oh. That. Well, I suppose you'll find out sooner or later," she said awkwardly. "I'm… betrothed."

The word hit me like a stone block, and my heart felt like it dropped into my stomach. Suddenly, I felt her finger gently close my mouth. I didn't even realize I had it open. She giggled, stirring me out of my stupor.

"Betrothed? To whom?"

"Some guy named Leopold," she said shrugging her shoulders.

"You've never even met him?"

"No, but I'll meet him the day after next," she said surprisingly upbeat.

"Why?" She looked at me with a confused expression and smiled.

"So I can meet him before I marry him."

I realized my mistake and shook my head. "No. Why are _you_ betrothed? And why are you just now finding out about it? Usually one knows about their betrothal years before."

"Not all the time, and besides, it was arranged only yesterday, and the reason was so the two Kingdoms could make an alliance."

"The two Kingdoms? Does that mean that this Leopold person is a prince?" Lia hesitated and then nodded. "Isn't it usually the princess who is betrothed to a prince?" I eyed her suspiciously.

"That is true, but when I informed the King and Queen of a prince already interested in Rosalyn, they reverted to the only other choice they had: me. So, you should be thanking me, really," she said.

"Thanking you? For what?"

"For putting myself in place of where Rosalyn should be so that she can marry you, silly."

"You did this so that Rosalyn can break my spell?" I was dumbfounded. Why on earth would someone do that for another she barely knew?

"Well, sort of," she replied awkwardly. "I have to admit that Rosalyn declined the proposal before the King sent for me, so I really had no choice but to accept."

"But will _he_ accept when he finds out he won't be marrying Rosalyn?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

I felt a sour taste in my mouth. I didn't like it. Not one bit. Who does this guy think he is to arrange a marriage to Lia? He doesn't even deserve her nor does he – why do I care so much? I shook my head to clear my mind of these ridiculous thoughts.

"Philip? Are you all right?" Lia asked with a hint of concern in her voice. I looked up into her beautiful blue-green eyes. They reminded me of the pond outside, and they even had tiny specks of gold in them, like when the sun hits the ripples in the water.

"I'm fine. Just tired," I responded, trying to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible.

"Oh, um, me too. We should get some rest." I nodded my head and then buried myself in the scarf as she changed. "Goodnight," she said, crawling under her blankets.

"Uh hmm," was all I could say in reply.

… … … … …

The next morning while Lia was at breakfast, I began to write my letter to Rosalyn. I had to get my mind off of Lia's betrothal. Why I was so bothered by it still eluded me, but thinking of Rosalyn soon pushed it out of my head. The quill felt light in my hand as it expressed my love for the beautiful princess. The first moment I saw her I knew she was the one for me.

"Philip?"

The voice sounded distant and soft, and I wondered for a brief moment whether it was she who was calling my name. My eyes focused, and I saw Lia staring back at me.

"Hmm?" I asked, distracted. She shook her head and smiled.

"I was asking if you were hungry," she said with an amused tone.

"Oh." I hadn't thought at all about my stomach while writing my letter, and as soon as I did it made a low growl. I looked down at my stomach and then back up at Lia. We shared a smile, and I put the quill I was using in the ink bottle for storage while we were gone.

At the pond, I leisurely swam around, snapping up several flies as they flew by. Lia was sitting by the bank as usual, yet today her expression was distant. I've never seen her this way before, and it made an anxious feeling grow in the pit of my stomach. I swam to the bank and settled next to her.

"Lia? . . . Do you want to talk about it?" She looked down at me, her eyes filled with the warm expression I usually saw when she gazed at me, and gave me a small smile. She sighed and lay upon the grass. I hopped closer to her head to hear her better, but it was still a few minutes before she spoke.

"Marriage is a big deal," she began slowly, watching the clouds drift lazily across the bright blue sky. "I've thought about my own wedding since I was ten, imagining the dress I'd wear, the colors and types of flowers I'd want, how I'd style my hair. But the most important part was whom I was going to marry. I didn't have anyone in particular in mind, but all I really wanted was someone I loved, you know? Someone who understands me… who knows exactly what I'm feeling even if I'm portraying a different one… someone I could talk to about anything."

"Like we are now?" I asked without thinking. My question surprised her – but only for a brief moment. I then watched her forehead crinkle and I knew, though I couldn't see it, that she was biting her lip. She was deep in thought about something.

"Philip," she said gently, but then paused as though what she was going to say was difficult to voice.

"Yes?"

"I want to tell you something, but I'm not sure what it will mean if I do."

This made me look at her curiously. "What is it?"

She hesitated, but then said, "I'm a . . . mm, what I mean to say is . . . that I want to _ask_ you something instead." She looked over, giving me a weak smile. "I don't even know why I said 'tell'," she added awkwardly. I narrowed my eyes at her. She was acting strange again.

"Okay," I said slowly. "What did you want to ask me then?"

"This might sound kind of silly, but . . . do you think you could accompany me when I meet Prince Leopold tomorrow? I think I'd feel better about the whole thing with you near me."

I knew that this wasn't what she wanted to tell me, but I did want to go with her tomorrow so I let it slip just in case she changed her mind about my going. I'll have to figure out a way to get what she _was_ going to tell me out later.

"Sure," I said in a suspicious tone, watching her expression turn sheepish. "I was actually going to ask you if I could come."

"Oh, great! Then it's settled. I know the perfect gown to wear tomorrow, too. It has pockets."

Then she scooped me up and headed back to her room. I finished my letter to Rosalyn, though it didn't end as well as I wanted. I couldn't get Lia and her strange behavior out of my head. Come to think of it, her explanation for her behavior earlier didn't really clarify why she looked so nervous when the servants were speaking to her. What exactly was she hiding?


	10. Chapter Ten

_Chapter Ten_

_Mixed Feelings_

*~.....~*

The next morning, my impatience was growing as I waited for Lia to return from delivering my letter. When she finally came through the door after what felt like an eternity, I leapt off the nightstand onto her bed.

"What did she say? Did she like it? Did she write me back?" I asked anxiously.

Lia stared at me with an amused expression. "Wow, Philip. You need to calm down." She giggled, and the sound made my heart race instead of calm me down. I actually had to stop and take a deep breath to settle my nerves. What the heck was that all about?

I unsuccessfully tried to push this strange new feeling from my thoughts, and instead, tried to distract myself by again asking about Rosalyn's reaction to my letter.

"Well," she began. "I don't have anything written to give to you, but I'm sure she will write you soon. I even have reason to believe that she will write it herself, which is saying a lot, Philip."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, she was practically gleaming, and her smile was the largest I've seen on her in a very long while. She also kept giggling and was way too effervescent. I was about ready to slap her, she was annoying me so much. What did you say in it, anyway? She wouldn't let me read one word. But that's how she is, really, so I shouldn't have been expecting anything different now…"

I heard her, but I wasn't exactly listening. Instead, I let my mind wander to the future when I would be human and living in my mother and father's castle as the King of our country with my beautiful queen by my side. Her honey brown hair flowing loosely down her back and soft, blue-green eyes gazing at me warmly as they did now. . . . As they did now? What?

I thought back to what I said and realized that I had just described Lia as the queen of my future. That can't be right. What was I thinking? Lia isn't even a princess, and I need Rosalyn – I mean, I _want_ Rosalyn . . . don't I?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and soon noticed that Lia was still staring at me with her smirk.

"Welcome back," she said teasingly. "It really is quite amusing watching you think about her."

"I wasn't thinking about her," I said absentmindedly, surprising not only myself, but Lia as well.

"Really?" she asked, generally curious. "Who or what _were_ you thinking about with that silly expression upon your face?"

What do I say? I can't exactly tell her the truth. I don't even understand it myself.

"Uhh, nothing," I answered lamely.

She looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Mm hmm, well do you suppose you can think about 'nothing' with your back turned? I need to make myself presentable for my meeting with Prince Leopold."

"But that's not for a couple hours," I said incredulously.

"Yes exactly, so I better get started now."

"What do you need two hours to get ready for?" She looked at me as though I were mad.

"You're joking right?" I shook my head. "It'll take a half hour to bathe, another half hour to dry and style my hair, and about three quarters to dress."

"I'm sorry, _what_? It will take you three quarters of an hour to dress? What ever for?"

"My dress requires a hoop," she answered as though this explained everything.

Well, it didn't.

"What the devil is a hoop?"

"A hoop skirt," she said, obviously thinking that I should know what it was. I gave her a look saying plainly that I still had no idea. She sighed.

"Growing up with many sisters, Philip, I'm surprised you don't know what a hoop skirt is."

"Right, because I made sure to be included in all of their conversations about their clothes and the latest styles," I answered with more than a little sarcasm.

"You don't have to get all snippy. The word could have passed by your ears when you were walking by them in conversation, and you might have been curious to know what it was and asked."

"Oh… I guess that's true. Sorry… So, what is it exactly?"

"It's a skirt worn under the gown to form its wide, bell-like shape."

"Oh. And this skirt takes a while to put on?"

"Well, not really. The extra time is mostly because it takes some practice to manage in. At least for me anyway, since I don't normally wear one. Anyway, I wish I could begin, but… I wonder what's keeping my water," she added more to herself.

As if in answer there was a knock on her door, and she let in three maids carrying a large bucket filled with hot water in each hand. They disappeared into her bathroom where I heard them filling up the tub, and then they left just as quickly as they entered.

I turned my back to her while she undressed, all the while noticing how much more difficult it was becoming to keep my eyes to the wall. I know that sounds horrible, but what do you expect? I'm a guy. It isn't like I would ever _really_ look. I do at least possess some gentlemanlike qualities. At first, though, it was quite easy not to look, since I thought of no one but Rosalyn, but now, for some odd reason, not even the thought of the Princess could veer my mind.

When the sound of water splashing in the next room was heard, I finally relaxed a little. Actually, taking a little dip sounded pretty good. I climbed into the bowl of lukewarm water left just for me and soaked it in, feeling refreshed almost instantly. I guess I was more dehydrated than I thought. However, I couldn't really swim in the bowl, so, becoming bored within five minutes, I hopped out and went over to the window ledge to try and occupy myself.

After maybe twenty or so minutes, I finally heard her get out of the tub and then saw her stand beside me, dressed in a long, thick robe. We watched a couple of birds twitter to each other as they worked together in building their nest in the tree beside her window. I looked up at her as she smiled down at me, and then she gave me a look and twirled her finger in a circle, telling me to turn around. I faced the window, smiling. To myself, of course. Remember, I'm not sure if I can visibly smile. I was steadily growing bored of watching the 'glories of nature', and tried to think of something to start a conversation. My findings left me with a question that slipped by me earlier.

"Why are you wearing a _gown_, anyway? What I _do_ know from growing up with my sisters is that gowns are usually worn to balls."

"Which is exactly where I'm wearing this one. The King is holding the ball to honor Prince Leopold's arrival and our engagement."

"I'll be in your pocket the entire time?" I'm having second thoughts about this. I wanted to be there for moral support, and to see if this Prince Leopold guy is good enough for her, but several hours in a pocket?

"Hold on," she replied. Her voice was so muffled that I barely understood her. I absentmindedly glanced behind me for a second in askance and I found her struggling with her gown that was stuck over her head. Her back was facing me, but that didn't stop the heat from rushing to my cheeks. It was bare, and the hoop skirt was made from a very thin fabric, showing a little more than was appropriate. I mean, I only really saw her undergarments, but still… I swallowed hard, unable to think clearly and just blankly stared through the window, not really seeing anything. What did I just ask her? Or did I tell her something?

At long last I heard a triumphant grunt and her normal voice again. "Of course you aren't going to be at the ball, Philip. I'm meeting Prince Leopold prior to, and then I'll take you back up here. I couldn't just leave you in my pocket; these balls usually last for hours… _I_ don't even want to be in this dress for that long."

"Oh, okay good," I said still slightly dazed. "That sounds much better."

"Aw for crying out loud!" she exclaimed all of a sudden, snapping me out of my stupor. My reflexes and curiosity urged me to turn around, but after what happened a very few minutes ago – even though it _was_ kind of an accident – I wouldn't allow my eyes to look. She trusted me, and I wanted to keep it that way.

"What's the matter?" I asked, feeling a little uneasy.

"Oh, I put my gown on before my corset," she explained in frustration.

A short laugh escaped from my lips as I rolled my eyes. Girls.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"'Doesn't sound too bad'? This just set me back about ten or fifteen minutes!"

"What?" I said, utterly perplexed. "How is that?"

"Didn't you hear me struggling to put the gown on?"

Ah heh, I more than _heard_ the struggle. My mouth suddenly became dry and I felt my stomach squirm as I briefly revisited the memory.

"Yeah," I rasped, then cleared my throat and feigned innocence. "Is that what you were doing? I was wondering."

"Well it takes even longer for me to take it off."

"Why isn't anyone helping you dress? I thought a girl couldn't get dressed on her own?"

"It can be done. I have been dressing myself since I was twelve, and I am pleased to say that I've nearly perfected it. The feeling of being dressed as though I was a life-sized doll was so completely irritating; I couldn't stand it. So, I watched my ladies-in-waiting most carefully to understand how everything was done and then taught myself."

"Hmm… well I don't think they would have put your dress on before your corset," I teased. "Really, I thought you perfected dressing yourself?" I imagined her expression (my back was still to her, mind you) and laughed at the look I was sure she was giving me.

"I meant putting on everything myself without help, and I usually don't have anyone distracting me while I dress, _Philip,_" she retorted. I laughed again.

"It all sounds so strange to me, though. _All_ my sisters love to be dressed," I replied, thinking back to my old life… you know, before I was a frog.

"How many siblings do you have, anyway?"

"Three sisters and two brothers."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why did your parents have so many? And especially three girls."

"Well, two of them are older than I am, so it's only common sense that my parents were trying for a boy."

"Well, then they had _you_ to take over the throne. Why did they still try after you were born?"

"I'm unsure. . ." After the words left my mouth, I thought back to how my parents' love for my younger brothers in their few six years was more than they had ever shown me in my entire fifteen years of living with them. "Perhaps they wanted a better son," I said dejectedly.

I saw Lia stand next to me out of the corner of my eye and felt her warm, comforting hand on my back. My heart raced from the soft touch but didn't shake the empty feeling in my stomach. I don't think I've ever known love in my family, except for maybe my younger sister Antonia – the one with whom I was furious the day I turned into a frog because she woke me up and insisted I play with her – and I kept pushing her away. She adored me, following me everywhere she could, even if I specifically ordered her not to come. 'My personal shadow' is what I used to call her, and she always tried so hard to impress me. I wish now that I had paid her the attention she deserved.

"Philip?" Lia said softly. "It's time to go."

I turned around, my thoughts still on my sister. She'd be about thirteen now. Not quite old enough to come out yet – not according to my parents, anyway. She'll have to wait three more years. I wonder what she was up to now.

"You don't have to come if you don't feel up to it, Philip. I'll understand."

That made me focus on the matter at hand. Lia needed me now, and Antonia probably didn't even know I was still alive. Besides, I wanted to see this Prince Leopold character.

She picked me up, placed me in her pocket, and we made our way downstairs. When I felt bold enough to peek my head out, we were in a huge sitting room where I finally got to see the King and Queen. Rosalyn was there as well, looking beautiful in a light green ball gown.

The King was tall with dark auburn hair that was turning white at the roots but didn't detract from his looks or his rather large crown. His clothing was trimmed in deep purple and silver, which absolutely screamed that he was very wealthy. I guess if his crown didn't do the trick, he had his clothes to shout to everyone that he was royalty. He also sported a nicely trimmed mustache and goatee.

The Queen was every bit as lovely as her daughter with her long golden hair and bold green eyes. She wore a deep red gown that was trimmed in gold. Her own crown was a good deal smaller than the King's but it was much more elegant, I thought. She reminded me strongly of someone else, but I couldn't quite think of whom at the moment.

"Lilian, darling, you look absolutely beautiful," said the Queen. I looked around for whom she was talking to and realized that Lilian must be Lia's full name. I liked it. It fit her. "Don't you _feel_ beautiful in such a nice dress and with your hair out of that braid?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then why don't you dress up more often? You could feel beautiful every day if you wanted."

What was she getting at? That a nice dress will make Lia feel better about herself? She didn't need a dress for that.

"Emma, dear, stop badgering the poor girl," the King cut in. "She'll wear what she wishes and still be beautiful." He turned to Lia and winked.

Hmm… I like him.

"You do look very pretty, Lia," Rosalyn added.

"Thank you, Rosalyn."

What? And she usually didn't? Was she more beautiful today than any other day? I didn't get it.

I looked up at her from my place in her pocket. Her honey brown hair hung down loosely to her lower back. It was curled at the ends and resembled a cascade of silk. Her blue-green eyes gleamed and sparkled while the light pink hue in her cheeks – there probably from embarrassment because of all the praises she was receiving – only added to her glow. The dress she wore was a dark gold, bringing out the brightness in her eyes and making her look like royalty herself.

I still didn't understand what they were talking about. Aside from her hair being down and the nice dress she wore, she looked the same to me as she always does. Why were they just now noticing her beauty? All because of a dress? I began to grow annoyed at their remarks and made it known by moving around in her pocket. She gently placed a hand on the pocket, making me stop almost instantly at her touch.

"I had better go," she said, apparently understanding that I didn't want to be there any longer. "Where do I meet him?"

"He'll be near the gardens," the Queen answered. "Good luck!"

'Good luck'? What was that supposed to mean? I asked Lia as soon as we were out of ear shot.

"She just meant that she hopes we connect, so I really wouldn't mind marrying him."

Oh. I guess that's okay then.

"What's gotten into you, Philip? I thought you would enjoy staring at Rosalyn, but I got the feeling that you wanted to leave."

"To tell you the truth, I was growing annoyed at what they were saying to you," I admitted.

"So you don't think I deserve their compliments?" she asked in a slightly cold tone I hadn't ever heard her use before.

"No. No, on the contrary. I think you deserve to be complimented _much_ more than only when you put on a fancy dress."

"Aw, that's really sweet, Philip," she said, placing her hand over the pocket I was in and then gently squeezed. I figured it was her way of hugging me, since it'd probably be awkward and definitely weird to hug a frog – if you even _could_ hug a frog – but the explosion in my stomach from the simple gesture sent my nerves in a hundred different directions.


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Chapter Eleven_

_The Meeting with 'His Egotistical Highness'_

*~.....~*

As Lia and I made our way down to the gardens, we found Prince Leopold just outside of them. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties and was a foot taller than Lia with broad shoulders and a slim waist. He was dressed in a periwinkle blue dress coat that made his eyes of the same color stand out vividly, while his feathered blond hair occasionally fell into them. He stood with one hand in a fist propped on his hip and the other lay limp by his side.

The whole scene made me want to gag. He looked like one of the princes in my sisters' story books. There was no way he was for real.

"Good afternoon, Prince Leopold," Lia greeted. She curtsied while he bowed, and then he took the hand she offered for him to kiss. His lips lingered at her hand, staring up into her eyes. I seethed, not liking him in the least.

"Would you accompany me through the gardens, milady?" he asked in a deep, inviting voice. He gave her a dazzling, white smile showing nearly all his teeth and offered his arm.

"Certainly, your highness," she replied, smiling herself and blushing a little. I grinded my own teeth and thought about how great it would be to punch out his. Then we'd see just how pretty his smile would be with them all missing.

"Why don't we drop the formalities?" he offered. "It feels too distant. I mean, we are promised to be married, are we not?"

"Yes, we are," she answered with a small smile.

As they walked through the garden, I tried to follow their conversation, but the man was so incredibly boring that I had a hard time trying to stay awake. Surely Lia thought so, too?

But no, she was smiling and laughing politely at his pathetic attempts to be funny. She was even flirting with him! I grumbled in my pocket, positively annoyed.

To try to take my mind off of them, I focused on our route through the garden, which gradually turned into the labyrinth if you weren't paying attention. They obviously weren't, because all too soon we were surrounded by the tall hedges and walking along the winding pathways. It was a good thing Lia had me to guide her out, because the pathways are very tricky and will lead you in a completely different direction from originally intended if you weren't paying attention, as I've learned from exploring them in my earlier years living here. I'm actually quite an expert at this particular labyrinth, if I do say so myself.

After a few minutes, I noticed that they were walking toward one of the many clearings that were all throughout the labyrinth, and sure enough, we came to one with a white marble fountain that I was sure had more algae on its surface the last time I was here; but then _of course_ the royal gardeners cleaned it up before they could allow it to be seen by _Prince_ Leopold. They began to slow down as they approached the fountain, and Leopold led her to sit upon the ledge.

Good. At least I can swim while the man droned on. I wiggled around in Lia's pocket, trying to hop out of it but with little success. It was a bit humid in the pocket, so I kept sticking to the soft fabric. Lia must have realized what I was trying to do, because in the next moment I felt her hand around me. I felt the cool breeze of the early evening air as she set me down on the ledge behind her. The sun had just begun to set, adding to the mood of the couple, which I was none too happy about. I jumped in the water to take my mind off of the situation.

"What was that?" I heard the prince say. His tone, to my disappointment, was only curious. I was hoping for it to sound alarmed to add to the other qualities about him that I was going to make fun of with Lia later. I watched her shrug it off and start another conversation with him while I swum around, trying to ignore the bitter feeling growing in the pit of my stomach and also thinking of a reason for it.

Maybe I was just being the protective best friend who wanted only the best for her?… Yes, that had to be exactly what it was. I just wanted Lia to be happy, so this should be good, right? Lia wanted a connection with the guy she was forced to marry, and they were actually getting along. So what was my problem?

Then suddenly I realized that they began speaking in soft voices to where I couldn't hear what they were saying with my being at the other end of the fountain. I narrowed my eyes at them, not liking how close they were. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled softly. They were only inches apart and I felt the indignant feeling in my stomach explode.

That was it! I couldn't take it anymore and jumped out from the water right in between them, shouting, "All right! Break it up!"

What came next was completely unexpected, to say the least. A low, but definite yell came from the prince as he leapt back from me. Lia and I exchanged glances.

"Are you serious? Did you just _scream_? Good grief," I said incredulously.

He tried to compose himself by straightening up, brushing imaginary dust off his suit, and then casually running his hand through his hair. He cleared his throat. "Of course I didn't scream. You merely surprised me while I was about to sing a short ballad to my dearest Lilian. The sound you heard was nothing more than an off-key note," he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that I almost believed him… not. It was the most full of bull excuse I've probably ever heard, and I've heard my share of dumb excuses. Need I remind you of all my siblings?

"Yeah, okay," I said just to let him keep a smidgen of his dignity. His eyes narrowed coldly at me, but I kept my indifferent stare.

"What sort of magical being are you, anyway?" he asked.

"I'm not, actually. I've been cursed by a witch."

"Well, surely you are no one of importance. Otherwise, I would have heard of your… _abnormality_," he said with a snobbish air.

"As a matter of fact, _I_ am the—"

"Philip," Lia cut in, shaking her head slightly. I shut my mouth but still glowered at the prince. Lia looked at him, too, smiling nervously. "Do you think I could have a word with my friend, Leopold? I'll only be a minute."

"You _know_ this insipid creature?"

Insipid? Who was _he_ calling _insipid_?! I sprang at him only to be caught in mid-air by Lia, which was quite an incredible feat, seeing as I was actually pretty quick.

She smiled. "I'll be right back."

"Of course, Lilian. I'll be waiting for you," he said, smiling that cocky smile of his. I swear, if I wasn't a frog . . .

Lia walked out of sight from Leopold and set me down on a nearby bench. "_What_ is your problem tonight?" she asked me. She seemed a bit irritated and I held my head in shame. I shrugged my shoulders, not really having an answer. Lia continued, "Are you _trying_ to ruin this union that could benefit our two kingdoms?"

This made me look up. "Who cares about whether it benefits the kingdoms?!" I practically shouted. "What about _you_, Lia? How does it benefit _you_?"

She stared at me for a while in silence, then directed her eyes ahead of her and stated in an impassive tone, "For a great kingdom to prosper, one must sacrifice the needs and wants of oneself for the greater good of one's people."

Wow. That sounded an awful lot like something my father would say to me. But Lia's not royalty, so how can that apply to her?

"That's well and good for the royals, Lia, but _you_ should have the right to marry someone you love, _not_ this Prince Leopold character!"

She looked down and smiled at me. "That's sweet, Philip, but not really my choice. 'My benefit', as you say, will be the expressions of the people when the two kingdoms flourish from the small sacrifice I can provide… Besides, I could learn to love Leopold," she added haltingly, her eyes downcast. I could tell she was trying to make herself believe that and was having difficulty in doing so.

"How could it not be your choice?"

She hesitated. "My King has provided for my family, given me whatever I've asked of him, for longer than I remember… He asked me this one favor, and I accepted."

I thought about what she said and sighed heavily, knowing that there wasn't really anything else I could say in argument. "I guess I could appreciate that," I said, dejected.

"Oh, don't be like that, Philip. It'll all work out in the end. You'll see," she said, trying to cheer me up when it was she who really needed her disposition brightened.

"I hope so. For your sake."

She smiled and scooped me up. "Come on," she said. "Let's return to him."

Back at the fountain, Leopold seemed a little... nervous, for some reason. He kept running his hands through his hair and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Is there something wrong, Leopold?" Lia asked. He looked at me.

"Uh, how do you even know… it?"

_It?_ I'll show him what an _it_ can do! I struggled in Lia's hands to get at him, but she tightened her grasp on me. I wasn't going anywhere.

"_His_ name is Philip," she said pointedly, "and we met when my family moved in here. He was living at the pond in the east side of the castle."

"But why befriend, uh, _him_?" His upper lip curled in a grimace.

"Because he's kind and understanding," she began. "He treats me with respect, and he makes me feel like my opinions and thoughts matter." I noticed that her voice became softer and held a sort of tenderness that made my heart feel as though it would burst out of my chest. "I can talk to him about anything… And I'm sure that if you just gave him a chance, you two would also become good friends."

I highly doubted that.

And apparently so did he.

"No," he scoffed. "I should think not!"

Lia's jaw tensed, but that was the only hint in her expression that reflected the anger I was currently feeling from her, as her hold on me tightened at an alarming speed. I cleared my throat, making her realize what she was doing, and she immediately loosened her grip.

"Look, Lilian," the Prince began quite arrogantly. "I originally wanted to meet you before the ball to propose officially, but now that I've met you, I really can't see me marrying someone with such" – he glanced down at me – "oddity in their behavior."

Lia's eyes narrowed into a glare that I hoped I would never be on the receiving end. Prince Leopold actually backed away a step from its intensity.

"Oh, really?" she asked, her voice still very calm. It made me shiver a bit and I wasn't even the one in trouble.

"Uh, yes?" he replied uncertainly. He then shook his head, as though just realizing what he had said. "I mean, yes," he said more firmly.

I couldn't help but laugh at him. Lia had to 'shush' me.

"And besides," Leopold continued, glaring at me; though he wasn't quite as arrogant. "I never wanted this arranged marriage in the first place. My father thought it would be the best way for our kingdoms to come together, but his real reason was to force me to get married. I won't have it, I tell you! I'm too young to be tied down to one female. There are too many other beautiful women in the world, and let's face it, _I_ am the most handsome prince anyone has ever seen. How can I deprive the ladies of my dashing good looks and charming personality by marrying? Why, it's inconceivable! Now, if you will excuse me." He swept his arm down in a bow and began to walk away with the most ridiculous strut I've ever seen.

"Well, that was… unexpected," I said. She laughed, which sounded a little relieved, and sat down on the ledge of the fountain, placing me beside her. I looked up. "Why didn't you retaliate?"

"Well, mostly because he didn't give me room to," she replied, smiling. "He was quite long winded for not saying very much." I joined her melodic laughter, but then I thought about what this would mean for Lia and stopped. Would she get into trouble?

"I'm sorry I ruined this for you."

"Oh, no, don't apologize, Philip. I should be thanking you," she said.

What? "Thanking me?"

"Well, yes. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have known his true character and would have actually married the pompous jerk."

"So, you won't have to marry him?" I asked a bit more anxiously than I intended.

"I don't think so," she replied, although she didn't sound very sure.

"Will you get into much trouble?"

"I should think not. My father will understand."

"Well, what about the King?"

"I just sai–oh! Yeah, I'm sure he will, too," she said a little rushed. This puzzled me for a second, but then I brushed it off, assuming that she was probably thinking of other things and was just distracted.

"Do you think he'll tell people about me?"

"I hope not. I mean, no offense, Philip, but—"

"I know. You don't have to explain. If the roles were switched, I wouldn't want to be seen, or known of talking to a frog, which can apparently talk back. Sounds a little crazy."

She gave me a mischievous smile. "If he does, I'm sure no one will believe him anyway, which will probably keep him from saying anything." She rose from the ledge and brushed off the back of her gown. "Well, I'd better go 'freshen up' for the ball" – That was her excuse to anyone who stopped her from going to her room to drop me off. – ". . . unless you would rather stay in my pocket?"

"Ooo, as much fun as _that_ sounds, I think I'll pass." She giggled as she swept me up and placed me in her pocket.

I had to direct her on our way out of the labyrinth, since she wasn't paying attention earlier, and we both suspected that Prince Leopold was probably lost inside, to which we both laughed about. Serves him right, I say.

Inside the castle, Lia was just about to ascend the staircase to her room when a familiar voice called to her from behind.

"Lia? What are you doing inside already? And without Prince Leopold?" Rosalyn asked.

"Um, well, he and I went separate ways from the gardens, and I decided to freshen up before the ball," Lia answered. "In fact," she added, her voice sounding as though it was holding back her laughter, "he may have gotten a little lost. Maybe someone should go show him the way out."

Rosalyn raised an eyebrow. "I _hope_ you don't mean _me_," she replied haughtily. "That's a _servant's_ job. Go ask one of them."

Lia only shrugged her shoulders and continued up the staircase.

"Well?" Rosalyn asked. "Aren't you going to go ask one of them?"

"Mmm, maybe later," Lia answered over her shoulder with a careless air. I laughed to myself as I watched Rosalyn's shocked expression until it was out of sight.


	12. Chapter Twelve

_Chapter Twelve_

_My One True Love_

*~.....~*

"So how was the ball?" I asked Lia the morning after. I had tried to wait up for her the night before, but after around two in the morning I gave up and fell asleep.

"It was fine," she replied, not at all sounding as though her time last night was enjoyable. "I was forced to dance with that pompous, good-for-nothing Prince about forty times."

"Forty times? Can you even fit forty dances in one night?"

"Of course not, Philip. I was over-exaggerating. Honestly."

"Oh, right. Well, did anything at all interesting happen at the ball?"

Her expression grew pensive, and then she smiled at me with a gleam in her eyes. "Rosalyn came up to me and complained about how arrogant and rude Prince Leopold was, which I found quite amusing and very ironic."

"Ironic? How?"

She looked at me with an apathetic expression. "Oh, that's right," she said, her tone indifferent. "You can't, or refuse, to acknowledge her faults, so how _could_ you understand the irony in the situation?" She rose from her bed, leaving me puzzled. What exactly did she mean by that?

"I don't understand."

"I didn't actually expect you to."

This puzzled me even further. "Then why did you say it?"

She sighed. "Never mind, Philip."

My thoughts shifted back to the very first day I met her when she was talking about the Princess's insensitive demeanor. "Maybe you should try to see her as I do," I suggested.

She made a noise of disgust and said, "I hope I never see her the way you do, because that would be disgusting, seeing as how she's my si—like my sister; you know, growing up with her and all."

"That is not what I meant."

"I know," she said with a slight look of relief that was soon covered by a smirk. "I just knew I would get a reaction out of you with that remark."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but instead of the mischievous gleam she usually had when teasing, her eyes held something else that I couldn't quite make out, and I knew it wasn't good. "All right listen, I know something is bothering you; I can tell. What's on your mind?"

She bit her bottom lip, as though not really wanting to say whatever it was she was thinking, but then she blurted, "I just don't understand why you are so set in becoming human that you would want Rosalyn to break your curse."

I still didn't understand. What was wrong with Rosalyn?

"Is she really so awful?" Lia's eyebrows furrowed and she gave me a bemused look.

"No, not all the time. And that wasn't what I meant by that anyway."

Crimeny, women are confusing creatures! I have no idea what she is talking about, and the more I try to understand, the more complicated she becomes! For my own sake, I'm changing the subject.

"How did the King respond to your rejection of the Prince?" The sudden shift in the conversation caught her off-guard at first, but she recovered quickly and answered me with a shrug of one shoulder.

"He was perfectly fine with it. He even apologized to me, saying that if he knew the Prince's true character, he never would have agreed. Now, we'll just have to see how the situation goes when the other king, King Taurus, receives the news. We sent a messenger out last night, so he shouldn't be back for three more days."

"Why didn't Prince Leopold deliver the message? I mean, where will he be during that time?"

"Oh, he found a couple ladies at the ball who drooled and fell all over His Egotistical Highness, so I doubt he will be leaving anytime soon," she replied in a disgusted tone. I chuckled at this and she gave me a smirk.

While we talked, however, I felt as though I should be doing something right now, or feeling nervous, or getting ready for something; I'm really not sure. It was tugging at the back of my mind, but the more I tried to think of what it was, the more it kept eluding my grasp.

"At least he'll be away from me," she continued. "That's all I care about right now. I really wished you were with me at the ball instead, Philip. At least I knew you wouldn't have spoken of nothing else but 'how great you were' and 'how women were just drawn to you'. Yeck! He makes me sick!"

"You have my sympathies, believe me."

"Yes, well, in a way he's not a whole lot different than R— mm… never mind. Forget I said anything. So when are you and Rosalyn going to meet?"

During the first part of her sentence, I was on the verge of asking her what she was talking about, but then her question rang a bell in my head. That was it! That was the annoying thought I was trying to grab a hold of earlier. I had asked Rosalyn a question in my letter and didn't receive an answer yet.

"Well," I began, "That depends on what her answer is to my question I asked her in my letter. Did she say anything to you?"

Lia shrugged. "She actually might have said something, but her voice was kind of pitchy to where I was pretty sure only dogs could understand her, so I just nodded my head and smiled."

I gaped at her. "That answer was important! Go and ask her what it is… please!" I said rather testily. I should have known better, though. She already wasn't in a good mood.

Her eyes narrowed at me. "Not until you ask me politely."

"I said please," I answered, suddenly not really caring whether or not she was mad. My pride was in question!

"As an afterthought and in a tone I didn't appreciate! Therefore, it does _not_ count," she replied.

"How _dare_ you speak that way to me! I'm of royal birth!" I practically shouted.

"But right now, you're a frog, so if you still want my help, you _will_ apologize and ask me in a more civilized tone," she retorted in a calm voice that – to my complete surprise – was full of authority. I was stunned into silence. Where did _that_ come from?

And my God was she beautiful when she was angry! Her eyes shone with a vibrant glow of passion while the slight color in her cheeks was very becoming. My anger suddenly dissipated, and I could only stare at her with absolute adoration. Besides, she _was_ right. I had no reason to react in such a way.

I lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry, Lia. You didn't deserve that, especially after what you went through last night with that loser of a Prince."

Her expression softened and she actually smiled. Granted, it was a very small smile, but still a smile. "I suppose I could forgive you."

"So, I was wondering if you could maybe ask Princess Rosalyn the answer to my question, please. That is, _only_ if it isn't too much trouble," I said excessively timorous, which gave me the reaction I was hoping for.

Her eyes narrowed at me again, only this time they were bright with laughter, making my stomach twist itself into knots.

"You are very lucky you're a frog right now, Philip, or I might have hit you for that," she teased.

"Then I am grateful, for once, that I am a frog… Although, I'm not sure how much pain a smallish, stringy armed _girl_ like you could inflict on a man."

She smiled, her eyes mischievous and gleaming. "Well, then, I suppose we'll have to settle this when you are human once again. You can come see me anytime you're ready to be beaten by this smallish, stringy armed _girl_," she said with a laugh, bringing my pulse to an alarming speed. She gave me a quick smile and left her room.

While she was gone, I couldn't get her out of my head. She made me feel warm and nervous at the same time, which was a very interesting feeling, I must say. I felt like I could ask or tell her anything, and she would be completely honest with me no matter if it was a little too much to handle. I could even be myself around her, which I felt was awfully hard when I was a frog. It was like she could see past all this slimy green-ness and see _me_.

Then all too soon, she was back with Rosalyn's answer and all thoughts of Lia were suddenly pushed out of my head.

"She said that she would love to meet you this evening, if at all possible."

"Yes, of course! This evening would be perfect," I exclaimed. I glanced at her to see if she shared my delight of becoming human again but instead found a small smile with something entirely different than happiness in her eyes. Was it disappointment? But why did she feel that way?

"Lia? Is there something wrong?"

"No," she said unexpectedly cheerful and then gave a nervous laugh. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"I don't know. You just seem… different, I guess," I answered, eyeing her suspiciously. What was going on with her? She smiled that small smile again and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, I'm fine," she replied. Yet again there was a peculiar look in her eyes. I didn't believe her, but for argument's sake, I dropped it.

"When in the evening?"

"Um, about an hour before the sun sets. I told her to meet you at the pond."

"Okay, great… Thanks, for everything," I said with much more meaning than I intended, but it made her smile with her usual warmth and I didn't regret it for a second.

… … … … …

When the sun was finally an hour before setting, I waited at the pond as patiently as I could, which meant that I couldn't sit still and was constantly trying to calm myself down. I finally heard voices after what felt like an hour later (it was really only a couple minutes, since the sun had barely moved) and watched as Lia led Rosalyn down from the palace to the pond. As they drew nearer, I could just make out the rest of their conversation.

"… and he's a bit altered than what you would expect of a prince."

"What do you mean _altered_? He _is_ handsome, is he not?"

"Well…"

"I demand to know what you think of him at onc—" Her sentence stopped short as her eyes lingered on me. A slight gasp escaped from her parted lips and her expression twisted into an ugly grimace. "Yech, I can't believe that with all Daddy's money, he can't get rid of some of these disgusting _pests_."

Ouch. That one stung. Lia gave me a sympathetic look.

"And what on earth is he doing with that cloak?" she continued. "He looks absolutely ridiculous." I looked down, just then remembering that I did in fact have a huge human-sized cloak around my shoulders. I'm sure I did appear somewhat peculiar.

Lia turned to her. "Actually, Ros, _that's_ the alteration I was telling you about earlier."

"What on earth are you talking about, Lia?" she asked, her tone indifferent. "And where is this Prince that I'm supposed to be meeting like, now."

"That is what I've been trying to tell you. Your Prince has gone through a… transformation and isn't exactly… human," she replied hesitantly. Lia bit her lip and pointed at me. Rosalyn followed her finger and then narrowed her eyes as the realization of the ordeal seeped in. She turned to Lia.

"A _frog_?! You _cannot_ be serious!" she screeched. Lia winced at the pitch in her voice.

"Listen," Lia began. "I know that this is a lot to take in, but the frog _is_ your Prince. _He_ wrote you the letter that you were fawning over earlier. Those words were his. The handwriting was his… I know he's a bit different than you would like, but he has a good heart and he really likes you."

Lia's voice was calming and her words made me feel elated; yet, Rosalyn's skeptical expression didn't change.

"You're saying that this _frog_ can think and write?"

"I can speak, too," I answered, not wanting to be left out of the conversation, as it included me as well. Her mouth opened in a silent, horrified scream. "I'm sorry; I know it's a shock, but please don't scream." She closed her mouth still seeming very shocked, but then seconds later, opened it to speak.

"This is a joke, right?" she said, looking around. "I mean, this is impossible. A talking frog? I can't… it just doesn't…"

Lia came to her side. "His name is Prince Philip and was Crown Prince to his kingdom of Rischen before a witch turned him into a frog," she explained. Rosalyn could only stare.

"What's with the cloak?" she said, finally.

"Well, when he turns back, he won't exactly be wearing anything, so he has to be covered somehow," Lia answered.

Rosalyn brushed off the explanation and asked, "But why me?"

"For all the reasons I stated in my letter," I replied. She swallowed hard, her expression pensive.

"And he'll turn back into a human how exactly?" she asked, dreading the answer. Lia was waiting for this and answered tentatively, "With a kiss from his true love."

"Oh, no. I don't think so. There is absolutely _no_ way I am kissing that frog," she stated.

"It's one little kiss. It really isn't that big of a deal, Ros. He's not slimy or anything."

"If it isn't that big of a deal, why don't _you_ kiss him?"

As soon as she said those words, my thoughts about Lia flashed before me and the feelings that came with those thoughts was overpowering. Lia? Kiss _me_? I couldn't explain how much those simple words completely confused my feelings into an intangible mess. I glanced over at Lia's reaction to the Princess's words and saw a most peculiar expression pass by her face before it was swiftly hidden under an inexpressive one.

"Because he loves _you_," she said, but I noticed that her voice sounded strained for some reason.

The words she spoke sank into me. Did I really love Rosalyn? I mean, sure she was beautiful, but I barely even knew her. I looked up into her eyes, feeling nothing at all what I felt when I looked into . . . And then suddenly my eyes wandered to Lia and my mixed and awkward emotions about her just seemed to fall into place. I didn't love Rosalyn. I was in love with Lia. Just thinking about it made my heart feel like it would burst out of my chest.

The problem now was that she wasn't royalty, and I needed a princess to break my spell. My thoughts turned to Rosalyn. _She_ was a princess, and if she kissed me, then I could be human again… but then I would be using her. Am I really going to stoop that low?

Rosalyn looked at me and all I could do was stare back. She glanced from me to Lia and then back to me, her expression showed nothing but contemplation. After a few more minutes of silence, she swallowed hard and gave a firm nod. My stomach sank. Could I do this? What was holding me back?

Rosalyn still looked extremely hesitant about the whole arrangement. Her eyes, which were usually sparkling like clear blue diamonds, were dull and held cynicism. She glanced over at Lia, who gave her what appeared to anyone else to be an encouraging expression, but I knew better. Her eyes told a different story. They were solemn and held what looked like regret. I didn't understand. Why would she feel that way? Did she not want me to be human again? Or maybe she still didn't believe I was human to begin with and is having second thoughts about letting Rosalyn kiss me.

Then the Princess turned back to me, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. This wasn't at all how I imagined the kiss to play out. It was, after all, my first kiss. She stepped toward me, making sure to only bend down enough so as not to touch me any more than she had to. My nerves coursed through me even faster as she drew closer. This was it. I was going to be myself again. But then why was I suddenly wishing for it not to happen? At least not with Rosalyn. My stomach felt like it was wrestling with my entire insides, and I knew I couldn't go through with it.

"Wait, stop!" I shouted.

"Oh, thank God," Rosalyn said as she straightened and took a step back. I felt heat rise to my face but was sure she couldn't make out what I was trying to convey with the look I gave her. (As I've told you before, I don't think frogs can show expressions.) But Lia on the other hand, I knew understood.

"Rosalyn!" she said in a reprimanding tone, which made me smile inwardly.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but frogs aren't my thing. Besides, _he_ stopped _me_, so this was _his_ choice, not mine."

"That's true." Lia looked at me. "Why _did_ you stop her? I thought you wanted to break your curse?"

I bit the inside of my lip. Now that I could tell her how I felt, I wasn't sure that I wanted to. What if she didn't feel the same way? Or what if she did and because of that, I would stay a frog forever?

"Well, as much fun as this is," Rosalyn said, breaking the silence. "I have better things to do. I'll see you at dinner, Lia. . . And don't you _dare_ tell _anyone_ I almost kissed a frog." She shuddered as Lia nodded her head, and then we both watched the Princess make her way up to the palace.

Lia turned back to me. "Well, Philip?"

I looked up into her eyes, those bright, blue-green orbs, and swallowed hard. I had to tell her. It was amazing how much it suddenly felt like a hundred butterflies were thrashing about in my stomach. I had to take a deep breath to calm my nerves. As I spoke, her curious expression gradually mixed with confusion.

"I stopped her, because I knew I couldn't live with myself if I had her kiss me just to become human. You were wrong, Lia, when you told her that I loved her. I don't. In fact, I don't think I ever did, and it would have been wrong for me to use her that way. I stopped her because of you."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Before I met you, I honestly don't think I would have stopped myself from going through with letting her kiss me. I wanted to be human so badly that I would have let nothing stand in my way, even if I didn't love the person who could have broken my curse. But this past week with you let me understand that it didn't matter whether I was a frog for someone to see who I really am." She gave me a shy smile, and then looked down quickly as a slight blush colored her cheeks. She began fidgeting with her hands.

"Now I don't care if I ever become human again, as long as I'm with you. And because of this the only problem is that I will probably never know what it feels like to be kissed as a human, since the only person I ever want to kiss me won't be able to break my curse. That person, Lia, is you." She looked up then, her eyes questioning.

"What?" she said, disbelieving.

"I don't understand what you do to me," I continued in a gentle voice. "My stomach can win contests with how many knots it ties in one single glance from you." Her gaze softened. "And when you look at me, just like you're doing now, my heartbeat quickens to an alarming rate." She gave me a small smile. "And when you smile, really smile, I have to remind myself to keep breathing."

It took her a moment to speak, and when she finally did, her voice sounded breathless. "You really mean all that, don't you?"

"Of course I do Lia. I love you."

There. I finally said it. Only now I have to wait for her to tell me how she feels, and the minutes have never felt so long in my life.

Instead of words, however, she walked toward me, her eyes glistening, and scooped me up, cloak and all.

"I think I've fallen for you, too," she whispered.

And with that, she lowered her head and kissed me. My entire body tingled as the air around me swirled in a sparkling golden mist.

What on earth was going on?


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_Chapter Thirteen_

_A Proposal . . . _

*~.....~*

As the mist surrounded me, I felt my limbs begin to grow while my perspective heightened. I was becoming human again, and I suddenly understood how Lia's kiss would make that possible: She _was_ a princess. How could I have been so naïve? All of the signs were there; I just had to put them all together. Every one of her denials of being royalty were contradicted, and I couldn't understand why she would lie to me. I didn't keep anything from her, so why did she feel that she had to keep secrets from me?

I wrapped the cloak around me before the thick, golden mist evaporated, yet I still felt very exposed. When my eyes met Lia's, I saw many mixed emotions and singled out the surmounting guilt that filled them. I could see she regretted lying to me, but I wasn't going to let her out of this. I still felt somewhat hurt that she couldn't trust me and wanted to know the reason.

"Lia . . ." I began hesitantly, noticing that my voice was slightly deeper than when I was a frog. "Why did you lie to me about being a princess?"

She glanced down at her wringing hands and wet her lips. "I—I don't know. I guess I didn't want you to see me only as a potential princess to break the enchantment upon you, like you saw Rosalyn." She looked up at me, and I reveled in the fact that she had to look up instead of down at me, for I was at least half of a head taller than she was now.

"I don't see you that way," I assured her.

"I know you don't _now_, but then? All you cared about was not being a frog anymore, and when you saw Rosalyn – sure, you mentioned her beauty every once and a while – but your main concern was becoming human again. If you knew I was a princess, too . . . I didn't want that awkwardness affecting our friendship."

It was my turn to look guilty. She was right. When I first met her, I probably _would_ have asked her to kiss me, just to break my stupid spell. I was ashamed of myself to even think of it.

"But then I got to know you," she continued in that warm voice I loved. "And it became more and more difficult not to tell you who I was – not because there were several incidents that almost exposed my true heritage – but because I hated lying to you." She stepped toward me and took my free hand in both of hers. "I began developing feelings for you that I couldn't explain, and even tried to deny, since I found it weird to love a frog."

I nodded in complete understanding, because, yeah, I would try to deny that, too.

"Then I realized that it wasn't _really_ a frog I was falling for, it was you. And I _wanted_ you to know about my being a princess." I grinned and gently squeezed her fingers. She looked down at our joined hands and smiled, but as she continued, her smile disappeared. "But then I had to try and talk myself out of it, because you were in love with Rosalyn, or so I thought, and I couldn't come between my sister and my best friend. It was harder than I thought it was going to be, watching Rosalyn inch closer to you, but I kept my expression as encouraging as I could. . . ."

Then she gazed up into my eyes, hers glistening with love. "When you told her to stop, and then began to tell me all those wonderful things, I almost couldn't contain my happiness."

"I meant every word," I replied, raising my enclosed hand up to her cheek while her hands traveled to my forearm. She smiled as I pulled her closer to me. I was about to kiss her when a cold breeze blew through, which chilled me since I didn't really have anything on under the cloak. She giggled at my slight shiver.

"Maybe we should get you some clothes," she said, smiling.

"Mm… yeah, I think that would be a good idea, especially if anyone sees us out here."

"You better wait here. I'll try and scrounge up some clothes for you."

"Why didn't you bring clothes in the first place? That would have made more sense than this cloak," I said, tightening my grip as another gust of wind came by.

"I didn't think about getting you clothes earlier, and the cloak was so you wouldn't be totally exposed when you transformed. If I _had_ brought clothes instead, it would have been incredibly amazing for you to have grown right into them while you changed form."

"Well . . . you still should have brought some," I said lamely. She just smiled and shook her head, letting me "win" the argument.

"I'll be right back."

I watched her disappear through the door of the palace before I turned to gaze at myself by my reflection in the water. The sun had already set, so it was a little difficult trying to make out my features by the light of the lightening bugs that flittered around the fountain.

From what I could see, my entire body seemed very lean from swimming and hopping everywhere as a frog, but I couldn't get over how lanky I looked. That will hopefully change real quickly when I adjust from a diet of bugs to real food, like a nice juicy steak. My mouth was watering already at the thought of it.

My face, I noticed, finally lost all of its "baby fat" and developed a clean, chiseled jaw line, while my dark brown hair fell loosely around my eyes – which were the only things I recognized. They were the same dark eyes that stared at me everyday when I gazed at myself in the pond. The more I examined my reflection, though, the more an oddly familiar sense of my appearance began to gnaw at the back of my mind. I watched my eyebrows pull together in confusion as I thought of why my new features seemed so familiar, but I wasn't able to dwell more on it. I was distracted by Lia's soft humming as she approached with a bundle of clothes – not just one outfit – a collection of leggings, shirts, trousers, and jackets. There was also a pair of shoes sticking out from the mass.

"The only royalty in the palace around your size," she began when she saw my raised eyebrow, "are my sister and I – oh, wait, there's Prince Leopold, too, but I'm sure you don't want anything out of his wardrobe. Yeah, I didn't think so – _so_, I grabbed some clothes from my father's wardrobe, but I think he's a bit broader than you. I brought some of his older clothes, the sizes that I thought were close to yours." She handed over the clothes while I looked around for somewhere to change, not really finding anything even remotely suitable.

"Where exactly . . . ?" I began.

"Oh," she said, looking around as well. "I don't know. You can't exactly change in the palace; the way you look right now is very questionable." Her voice held suppressed laughter and she smiled.

"I'm sure this is all rather amusing for you, but I'm the half exposed prince in a cloak holding a bundle of clothes. You think I chose to materialize in as much covering as I did when I was brought into this world?" I said a bit irritated. Her smile broadened.

"All right, all right, keep your trousers on – oh, wait," she replied, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Funny," I said, trying to fight my smile and knowing she'd see it in my eyes, anyway. Why was it so difficult for me to remain angry with her?

"It is quite dark out. Perhaps no one can really see you that well."

"Fine. I guess I'll just sneak around the palace to the gardens and dress there."

Ten minutes later, I came out of the labyrinth in the gardens styling decade's-old clothing that was too long in the legs and too broad in the shoulders for me. The shoes were surprisingly the right size, but I still had to find some way to shorten the leggings without it looking ridiculous. Luckily I had Lia to help me out with that part.

"There," she said, fixing the last cuff. I looked down.

"Perfect. You can't even tell they weren't made for me . . . but what about the jacket?"

"Well, Father will know these are his clothes, so it won't really matter." She stood back to get a better view of me.

"So, how do I look?" I asked, striking a pose. She giggled.

"I still can't get over the fact that you are human now," she replied. I smiled and closed the gap between us.

"Human enough to do this," I said softly, reaching my hands along her chin to pull her into a kiss. I felt her smile through the kiss as she returned it, placing her arms around my neck. I couldn't contain my happiness and picked her up by the waist, swinging her around. Her melodic laughter was left echoing throughout the night. The moment was too perfect to pass up.

"Lia?" I said, setting her down. My nerves were thrashing about.

"Hmm?" she answered, her smile never leaving her perfect mouth.

"Um, I don't know if I can support you, since I'm not even sure my kingdom will accept the fact that their true Crown Prince has returned while my brother sits in my place now, and I am sure they don't think I'm alive for them to even consider my coming home." Her smile broadened, and I knew she was silently laughing at my rambling.

"Where are you going with this, Philip?" she asked, though I felt that she knew. I swear this girl could read me like a book; plus, I thought it was rather obvious. I grew even more nervous with her bright eyes gazing at me intensely. I took her hand in my own and hoped she wouldn't become disgusted by the sweat that I knew was building on both my hands.

"I don't know exactly how long I've loved you," I said in a rush. I didn't want to lose my nerve. As I continued, though, it became easier to say. "It's been gradually building from the moment you befriended me; I just had no idea how deep my feelings for you were until Rosalyn was about to kiss me. I couldn't bare the thought of kissing anyone but you, and I want you to be the only one I ever kiss for as long as we each have a breath left in us.

"Princess Lilian," I began in a surprisingly steady voice given the immense question I was about to ask her. I knelt down to look up into her beautiful, gleaming eyes and took her hand. She gazed down at me while the stars above and around her only added to her beauty. "Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?"

She looked about ready to burst. "Of course!" she said, throwing her arms around me. I wasn't prepared for her, however, and we toppled down in the grass laughing. We lay upon the grass on our backs for a while just looking at the bright stars, hand-in-hand. Lia was the first to rise.

"Come on," she said, grabbing me by the arm. She helped me up and practically dragged me to the palace. "I want you to meet my parents." She seemed delighted with the idea. As for me, I was panicking.

"Your parents? As in the King and Queen? Lia, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I've barely been human for an hour." She rolled her eyes.

"You'll have to meet them sometime or another."

"Yes, I realize that, and I choose another time."

Her bottom lip protruded a little and her eyes glistened in unshed tears. She was pouting! I knew she was only jesting, but I couldn't believe the effect it had on me. Even so, I was resolute in not having the effects show.

"I thought you wanted to marry me?" she whispered, looking so disheartened and sorrowful.

That did it. I caved. I took her hand and stared straight into those pools of manipulation and didn't care if I was drowning. "More than any person has ever wanted to marry anyone."

Her triumphant smile was back in a second. "Then that settles it. You have to meet my father to ask for my hand," she reasoned.

I grimaced. "But . . . what if I forget something and I embarrass myself in front of them? First impressions are very crucial, especially when I'll soon be a member of your family."

"Oh, Philip, calm down. You'll be fine," she replied, giving me an encouraging smile that almost made me forget my worries. Almost.

We entered into the main hall where a nonchalant Rosalyn was passing through. "Oh, Lia, there you are. Father needs to see you. Why he keeps sending _me_ to—Who are you?" she said, finally noticing I was with her.

Lia stepped forward. "Rosalyn, this is Prince Philip. Philip, my sister, Princess Rosalyn," she said, not even bothering to hide the satisfied smirk that crept over her lips.

"Pleased to, formally, meet you, Princess," I said in a purposefully deep, sultry voice and bowed slightly.

Rosalyn just stared at me with her mouth hanging gracefully open. It took her a few moments to compose herself and then she found her voice.

"_He's_ your frog?!" She blushed and then turned to walk away. Once she left, Lia and I broke out in laughter.

"Did you see her face?" Lia asked. "Priceless." We began walking toward her father's study, when she pondered aloud, "I wonder what he needs to see me for." Then she turned to me. "You should probably wait outside. I'm not sure what kind of a mood he's in."

She knocked on the door of his study and, hearing him call through the door for her to come in, pushed it open.

"Ah, Lily. Come in, dear." His voice was reserved and somewhat grave. I puzzled over his reluctant tone, as though he didn't want to tell his daughter some news she needed to know.

"Good evening, Daddy. You needed to see me?" I heard her reply hesitantly before she closed the door. She must have heard the same thing in his voice as I had.

I waited in the hall impatiently while a few servants passed. They gave me some confused and awkward looks, so I smiled at them to ease their anxiety, yet my smiles backfired. They made only one of the servants smile back; the others gave me stunned looks and walked faster. I suppose my presence in the castle was a little strange without it being announced, but that didn't account for their awkward looks and behavior. Did I have something in my teeth perhaps?

Thankfully I didn't have to wait long before I saw the door open, but my relief quickly morphed into concern when Lia walked through with an apprehensive expression. I was at her side at once.

"Lia? What's wrong?" I asked, my voice giving away my trepidation. She gave me a very feeble smile and then lowered her eyes.

"Oh, Philip. It's awful," she whispered. My mind raced at the possibilities of her sorrow with every new thought growing even more dramatic.

"It isn't you father, or mother, or someone else in your family, is it?" She shook her head.

"No. Thank you; that's sweet. They're all well." She was silent again, as though not really wanting to tell me yet knew she had to and was trying to find the right words. I took her hands in mine, making her look up at me. He eyes were again glistening with unshed tears, but unlike in the gardens, these weren't pretend.

"What is it? You can tell me," I said softly.

"Philip, I . . . I can't marry you."

The words were like a five ton anvil hitting me right in the stomach. I stood there dumbfounded for I don't even know how long. Finally I managed to mutter in a very feeble voice, "Why not?"

Lia looked around, noticing a curious servant nearby. "Not here," she replied and led me to an empty parlor, leaving the door open for modesty. We sat down side-by-side on one of the three sofas. She looked down at her hands while tears splashed upon them periodically. I felt around in the borrowed clothes I wore, patting for a handkerchief but unfortunately didn't find one. I felt so awkward while she cried and not being able to offer her a way to dry her tears made it worse. I offered her my sleeve instead, holding up my arm in front of her and pulling out the white cuff from under the jacket. This made her give me another weak smile while she dried her eyes, but I could tell that her smile, weak as it was, was also strained. The reason for her not marrying me must be unavoidable. I wanted to hope for the best, but the way she was staring at me made it seem like there were no possibilities open whatsoever.

She took a deep, shaky breath before saying, "My father received a letter today from Prince Leopold's father insisting on the marriage between his son and myself."

"You… you are going to marry Leopold instead of me?" I asked, my voice stressed.

"I don't have a choice. If I don't comply, his father will declare war on our country, and though our military is a bit larger than his, I don't wish to start a war when I can prevent it."

"I… I understand," I said, defeated. This wasn't right. I finally find someone who makes me want to be a better person, who makes me feel like I could do anything, and I can't spend the rest of my life with her because of some whiny prince? No. Because of the father of some whiny prince. A prince who wouldn't appreciate Lia as she deserved. Well, he better find an alternative, because I'm not giving Lia up so easily!

I stood up then, pacing the room while ideas for an alternative passed frantically through my mind. I was surprised with how many I could create, yet at the same time, I was unimpressed with their ability to succeed, or even make sense.

And then a hint of a solution came to me. I wasn't sure if it was going to work, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try. It was the only plan we had – assuming Lia hadn't thought of anything.

I knelt beside her and took her hand in both of mine. "Lia," I said, almost in a whisper. "I can go to my parents."

She looked at me like I was insane. "What?!"

"Listen, if I can convince them that I've returned, I can claim my throne back and offer Leopold's father an alliance with my powerful kingdom and try to talk him out of the betrothal. It could work. I should go and see them, anyway. It has been five years."

"Philip," she said, her voice low. "That you would even consider letting those people back into your life—"

"It won't be so bad. I'm not even going to be there very long. I'm coming right back to tell you the good news." I gave her a feeble smile. She didn't respond, and I looked down, focusing my attention on our hands. "They're my parents, Lia." I didn't want to look back up; I could feel the heat of her glare without confirmation of it being there. I knew she was only angry at me because my parents weren't here to glare at, but it still made me feel guilty. After several minutes, I saw her move her other hand (I still had a hold of one) and place it gently upon mine. I looked up into her beautiful blue-green eyes as she smiled at me.

"I only worry about what they will do to you." I raised an eyebrow at her. "Emotionally, not physically," she specified. I grinned up at her and rose, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

"You worry too much."

We left the parlor and then the palace, making a brief stop in the kitchens, without anyone noticing. In one hand was a parcel of food and in the other was a loaf of bread with some meat and cheese in it. It wasn't exactly the steak I had wanted earlier, but it certainly tasted much better than anything I'd eaten in over five years.

When we reached the stables (Lia had insisted that I borrow her horse), it took some very convincing animal calling to persuade the sleepy stable boy that the area was surrounded by some type of large beast. He ran flat out for the palace without a second glance. I laughed for a good long minute – until I caught Lia's expression out of the corner of my eye.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"That poor boy is probably going to have nightmares now because of you," she reprimanded.

"I'm sorry. How else were we going to get him out?"

"Unless you have forgotten, Philip, I am a princess, and as such have the authority to send him wherever I wished, including away from the stables."

"Oh, right" Blast. She has a point. But then, "What were you going to tell him when your horse went missing?"

"That I set him free," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. I pondered this for a moment.

"In the middle of the night?"

"I didn't want anyone to see me let him go and talk me out of it."

"All right, fine. I'll give you that. But _my_ way was more fun," I said with a huge grin. She only shook her head and turned her back to me to get her horse, but I knew the real reason was to hide her smile. I wish she wouldn't have turned; I love her genuine smile, and that would have been a good one. I haven't seen it since the pond. I missed it.

"Here he is," she said suddenly, snapping me out of my daydream I didn't even realize I was having. Wait, can you have daydreams at night? Or are they called something else, like night-dreams? Although that wouldn't be right, either, since people usually have dreams at night and it would just sound—

"Philip?" Lia asked, which ripped me out of my train of thought. Again. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nonsense," I replied absentmindedly, shaking my head. What _was_ I thinking about? "I don't know." Perhaps I was only procrastinating my leaving. I didn't want to leave her here alone with that arrogant prince, and then there was the nervous feeling festering in my stomach from the first thought of seeing my parents again.

Lia gave me a small smile and then proudly gazed up at her horse. He was at least 16 hands high and a dark chestnut. He neighed excitedly, eager to go riding, no matter how late at night it was.

"He's huge!" I exclaimed. Her smile grew as she pat her horse's large neck.

"I had him brought here from one of the far northern countries. His sire was even larger than he, towering at 17 hands!" she exclaimed.

"How tall is this one?"

"Caspian is 16.1 hands and eight years old, but he's still my baby," she said, gently pulling his reins down to give him a light kiss on his cheek, which was slightly bigger than her face. "I've had him since he was only nine months old, and he's rarely been groomed or cared for from someone other than me."

"So don't you think that the stable boy would have been suspicious if you had told him that you set Caspian free?" I asked, my tone a bit arrogant. She scrunched up her nose in a way that I knew she realized I was right and didn't want to admit it. She looked so much like my little sister, Antonia, that I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"I still think you could have lured him out another way," she countered.

"All right, all right. That's probably true," I admitted reluctantly while I began putting my things in a nearby saddlebag. We both buckled a beautiful, dark leather saddle on his back, and I was surprised at how still he was while we did. I was really glad that Lia had a horse that was so well behaved, as I hadn't ridden a horse in so long. I could just imagine how sore my rear was going to be after my journey.

Once I secured the saddlebags on Caspian, I mounted her monstrous steed (somehow without looking ridiculous) and looked over at Lia to tell her goodbye. The words caught in my throat before I could even get out a syllable – her eyes were suddenly filled again with tears. I dismounted at once and took the few steps to be in front of her.

"Hey," I said softly, feeling as awkward as I had when she was crying earlier. "What's all this about?"

I was used to her being strong, with her head held high. This crying thing had me way out of my element. I never had much practice with being considerate of other people's feelings before Lia, nor did I care. Stupid arrogant little thing I was. But now, all I wished was for to never feel unhappy ever again, yet I had no idea what to do to console her.

Then a tear fell from the brimming pools in her eyes, and without a second thought, I reached up and gently wiped it away with my thumb. She followed my hand up with both of her own to keep my hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes, making the pools overflow down her cheeks. My other hand was instantly there, wiping those away, too.

"You know I'm going to return Caspian exactly the way you see him now," I assured her, trying to make light of the situation. A weak and embarrassed laugh escaped from her lips.

"These are so silly," she said, as though she was ashamed for crying. I didn't say anything. I only pulled her closer toward me, and she closed her eyes again. I kissed one eyelid, and then the other, finally resting my lips on hers. She kissed me fervently back, wrapping her arms around my neck like before to bring me even closer. She gave a soft moan as I deepened the kiss. The heat from our bodies made her sweet, honey-like scent stronger, filling my nose and making me yearn for more of her.

But then she pulled away. I made a sound of protest; she shushed me and kissed me lightly. "You better be back way before the wedding, or I may have to send out a warrant for your head," she teased, her eyes gleaming.

"I have a month, right? No problem," I replied, shrugging one shoulder.

"I expect letters, too," she said, smiling.

"You know, I never realized how bossy you were. I don't know about this. Maybe I'll meet someone back in my kingdom who isn't as domineering and marry her instead," I teased back and turned away.

She pulled me back around and ardently kissed me again, as though to convince me that I could never love another. It was so unexpected that my body acted on instinct. One hand cradled her jaw, while the other ran through her soft, long hair. I pressed her against me, trying to get her as close as possible and was definitely convinced to forget the trip altogether. I felt her try to draw away, so I redirected my mouth to her jaw line and down her neck. She gasped in surprise as I continued to her collar bone, her shoulder, and then back up. "Stop," she breathed weakly, but her fingers dug into my skin, encouraging me to do the opposite. I placed one final kiss on her perfect mouth and said, "You should know my heart only has room for you."

Then I slung my legs over Caspian (with some difficulty that I hoped didn't show), and we galloped toward what could very well be an enormous disaster.

* * *

A/N: In case you are unfamiliar with the measurements of horses, their height is measured from their shoulder to the ground, and one hand equals four inches, so Caspian is about 5'4" high, while his sire is about 5'6", not including their necks and heads.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_Chapter Fourteen_

_A Sense of Belonging_

*~.....~*

The iron gate to my palace stood before me. I remembered it being quite a bit larger and more demeaning, but I suppose it _would_ seem that way to a fifteen year old boy of average height and then a four inch frog. My journey here was smooth enough, yet I didn't think it would take near as long as it did. I had to stay at a shabby, little tavern in a very small neighboring village last night, even though I rode all of the night before when I last saw Lia. I miscalculated exactly how many leagues I could cover in a day, not to mention how unbelievably sore my rear would be after only hours of riding. It had been too long since I was last in a saddle, and I definitely wasn't accustomed to an entire day and a half of riding in one yet.

Another reason, or reasons rather, for my prolonged journey would probably be because I made two different, unplanned detours along the way. Lia had shown me which direction I should head, but I somehow got myself lost to which I had to ask directions from some farmers. They each gave me strange looks – no doubt about my odd clothes – yet they held their tongues, as I'm sure they knew the consequences for speaking above their station. My clothes may have been odd, but they still gave an inclination that my status was higher than their own. I could tell that they were unsure how to address me and finally settled on 'my lord', which I let pass. I didn't want to announce my return before my parents saw me first. I had a special entrance planned for them.

Of course, my journey wouldn't have been nearly so long if I had only cut through the forest, as Lia's summer palace wasn't even half of a day's ride from my kingdom if I had. This is why, when I was a frog, it only took me the better part of the day to reach the grounds to Lia's palace. But I learned my lesson. I don't know if I'll ever enter the forest again. Well, okay, _maybe_ to gloat to the witch that her curse didn't work out how she planned, especially when I show up human and all. . . And yet, I wouldn't want to make her angry with me again, so maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

Two guards at the gate barred my passage, yet the older guard's eyes were large as he gazed at me. I raised an eyebrow in question for his strange behavior, which made him realize what he must look like and bowed his head to 'cough'. When he met my eyes again, his expression was once again controlled.

"State your name and business for entering the castle, sir," he said in a gruff voice.

"I come from the palace in the neighboring country Ciri, and I bring a message for the King and Queen," I said, pulling out the crest of Lia's parents and hoping it would distract them from not giving them my name. I berated myself for not coming up with one during my journey; I certainly had the time.

The older guard took the crest for examination. "Very well, sir. We'll take the message off your hands and you can return to Ciri."

"I'm sorry, but the message was given to me orally and it cannot be heard by anyone but the King and Queen," I said smoothly. They looked at me with unsure eyes. "You can search my things to make sure I'm not carrying anything dangerous, if you like," I offered, and then flashed them a reassuring smile. The younger guard actually returned the smile, sort of, and briefly searched through the one, lonely saddlebag on Caspian. He then nodded to the older guard, whom finally let me pass. I'll have to tell Father to give them a raise for being so thorough with unfamiliar guests. . . . Heh. A _raise._ It's funny what five years as a frog and being in love will do to a man. Five years ago I probably would have been irritated with the guards for making me wait to get into my own residence, and then most likely have Father punish them in some way. Yech. What a horrible little thing I was. No wonder I wasn't much liked.

When we reached the door, I dismounted Caspian (surprisingly without breaking anything, as my legs were quite unsteady from riding for so long) and tied his reins to a post specially there for that purpose. In Caspian's saddlebag I pulled out a tin of corn flour and a handkerchief that held a small block of charcoal that I bought in the village I stayed in last night. I wet the flour with the water from a canteen Lia let me borrow and put it in my dark hair to lighten it up a bit. With the charcoal, I rubbed it on my chin and over my top lip, checking my reflection every couple of minutes in the glossy underside of the tin lid. I figured a disguise will be best for what I have planned for my parents. I don't want them to recognize me while I'm acting to be someone else. They may not have seen me in five years, but I still do possess some of the features I had when I was fifteen.

After I applied the last bit of charcoal I needed to complete my disguise and slicked back my hair so the wet flour didn't look too weird, I gave my appearance one last look over and was amazed with what some flour and charcoal could help me accomplish. My dark hair was almost a brown color and I now had a mustache and goatee. There was just one problem: my eyes might still give me away. . . Hmm, I'll just have to keep them lowered when speaking with my parents, which I suppose my false lower station might require I do so, anyway.

I finally walked up to the door and knocked, feeling quite anxious about my parent's reactions for my return and excited to see everyone. But mostly, I was anxious. What will they say? Will they even acknowledge me as their son? And if they do accept my return, will Alex, the current crown prince, be upset with me? I couldn't help but think these taxing questions as I waited to be let into my own castle.

The heavy redwood door swung open, revealing the familiar, yet not too familiar entryway. It was completely redecorated. Bright paintings replaced the older, more familiar ones I remembered, the ones I grew up knowing. The crystal chandelier was different, noticeably bigger, more extravagant, and I believe had three new colors shading the crystals. Not to mention the shiny suit of golden armor against the east wall with a flamboyant red plume sticking out a foot and a half from the helmet. All of this was no doubt some new fashion my mother was stating. I must admit that I should have been expecting my home to be different from when I remembered it. She always made sure our castle had all the new styles, as it "gave the ideal design for everyone else's décor", or so she would say. Some things never change.

"Good day, sir," said a voice in a familiar and pleasing tone. I focused my attention on our butler, Laraby, who was about my height with a very welcoming face and a white haired, almost balding, head. He was gazing at me without any recognition, so I hoped my disguise would fool my parents as well.

"Enjoying her majesty's impeccable taste?" he asked.

Impeccable? Really? It looked like a bunch of random things thrown together. I struggled to keep a straight face. "Yes, it certainly is something."

"Yes," he agreed. "Her majesty takes great pride in her work. I seem to find the result rather fascinating."

"And the armor gives it just the right touch," I added. He eyed me skeptically.

"What is the reason of your visit, sir?" he asked in a slightly regarded tone. His eyes then trailed over my out-of-date clothes, to which he raised an eyebrow. He must think I have no fashion sense whatsoever because of these ridiculous garments. Ah, oh well. I'm not here for a fashion show.

"I have a message for the king and queen, from Ciri."

"Are they expecting you, sir?"

"Ah, no. No they aren't."

"I'm sorry, sir. Appointments must be made at least two days in advance for the king and queen to see anyone."

What?! Is he kidding me? When was this rule established? I looked into his unwavering eyes, searching for a reason to call him on his bluff, as I was sure that's what it was, but his stone-still face didn't falter. I gave up trying to stare him down, as I wasn't getting very far with it anyway. I decided to try a different tactic.

"Look, I'm a messenger. I have to deliver the message, get a response, and return to Ciri as soon as possible. I don't have the money to stay in an inn, and I certainly don't have time to remain in the city for two days, waiting for an appointment."

"An appointment?" said a voice behind the butler. He turned and my eyes fell on a girl around twelve or thirteen walking towards us. She brushed one long, dark curl from her questioning face, and glanced in my direction. My dark eyes met her warm blue ones, and suddenly I knew who it was – my littlest sister, Antonia. I dipped my chin in acknowledgement and hastily averted my gaze. If anyone could see through my cover by my eyes, I was positive Antonia would.

"Your highness," Laraby said in a nervous tone and bowed. I mimicked the bow halfheartedly, feeling awkward bowing to one of my siblings. They usually bowed or curtsied to me (being the Crown Prince and all) and only on special occasions, such as formal dinners when other royalty were present.

Laraby, I noticed, seemed to recover quickly from the young princess's surprise visit, as his next sentence was quite smooth. "What a pleasant surprise. You usually keep to the gardens on beautiful mornings such as this."

"Yes, usually," she replied, grasping the book I just realized she was holding with both her hands. "Yet my book put me in a rather hungry mood on this particular morning, though breakfast wasn't too long ago. I was just on my way to persuade Cook to give me a small bite before the midday meal when I heard something about … appointments?" Laraby shifted his weight. She gave a small smile and said in a playful voice, "When did messengers ever need appointments, Laraby?"

"Oh, well, I," he began. "I only had the best intentions, I assure you, your highness."

_Really? And what possible reason could you give?_ I asked him quite disbelievingly – in my mind, of course. I didn't want to anger him; then I'd never be able to see my parents. Laraby held grudges longer than anyone I knew. I'm sure he was still mad at my blaming him for the cracked vase in the entryway when I was seven (my parents believed anything I told them at that age). He had to pay for its repair with money from his own pocket as punishment. It took him three months to pay it off, but he did so without complaint. Instead, he began to make excuses for not letting me through; either the maids had just mopped and he didn't want me to dirty the floor, or the weather wasn't fit for the Crown Prince to be allowed to go outside. So I avoided the entryway for five whole months, which actually forced me to use the servant's door on occasion. Even years afterwards he gave me a hard time coming through the front door. . . Hmm, maybe he _did_ recognize me after all.

Laraby explained his actions in a low, somber voice, "I knew that tomorrow is the anniversary of our young prince's disappearance and didn't think the king and queen would want to see anyone who might be around his age," he glanced over at me, "until after the day had passed. I only created the idea of an appointment to make it seem more believable for my reason of turning him away."

His answer completely threw me off guard. The anniversary of my disappearance was tomorrow? What a strange coincidence I would return on the day before I left, only to hopefully announce my return tomorrow. Furthermore, why on earth would anyone be concerned about my parent's regard for my "disappearance" when they were the ones responsible? . . . Well, I suppose they had to tell my siblings and the countries something besides 'we ran him off'.

Then I noticed Antonia looking down at her fidgeting hands, her dark curls hiding her face. When she finally returned her gaze to Laraby, she gave him a halfhearted smile and said, "That was very sweet of you, Laraby. I'm sure the king and queen will be moved as I was when I tell them."

"That isn't necessary, your highness. It was nothing."

"Nonsense, Laraby. You are far too modest for your own good. However, messengers from other countries mustn't be delayed, as their messages may be greatly important."

"Yes, your highness," he replied, bowing.

I flashed a gracious smile in her direction, which she returned with a small smile of her own and began to turn away from us. But then she stopped, mid-turn, and spun back around to stare at me with immense concentration, and for some strange reason, I couldn't look away from those hurting, yet hopeful eyes.

After probably about a minute or so, she gracefully cleared her throat. The small noise broke the silence and, in turn, my gaze. I swiftly lowered my eyes.

"What is your name, sir?" she asked.

Blast! She's caught me. My plan's done for now. I knew she would figure it out. And if she figured it out this easily, then it isn't that good of a disguise to begin with. . . Okay. Deep breath. I need to get a hold of myself. She hasn't _exactly_ said anything; she just wants my name. But what name do I give?

"Your name, sir?" she persisted.

"Right. I apologize, your highness. My name is lord Maxwell, and I came from Ciri," I replied, giving her a slight bow. I didn't like lying to her, but it wasn't a complete lie, really. Maxwell is one of my many middle names, and the first one I thought of that wasn't my first name.

"And you are a messenger, lord Maxwell?" she asked, eyeing my clothes skeptically.

"Not exactly, your highness. I am a lowly lord who just has a message from Ciri to give." Okay, that time I was mostly lying. Blast! She needs to stop asking me questions!

"You can't be too lowly to afford such fine leather boots," she said.

"They were given to me, your highness. I did not buy them."

"Oh," she said, disappointed. Then, after a pause, "I'm sorry to keep you, lord Maxwell. It's only… you … remind me of someone."

"I do, your highness?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the floor by her feet. I'm still too much like myself, apparently. She'll guess who I really am in no time if she keeps this up. Perhaps I'll try an accent with my parents. Too bad Ciri's is too close to ours. It would have made it easier to think of one to mimic.

"Mm." I glanced up to see her head lowered. She reached up a hand to her face – hidden by her curls – and swept it across her cheek. Tears? . . . For _me_? My heart swelled in my chest. I couldn't believe she still cared for me even after all the times I treated her so unkindly. She then gave her head a slight shake as though she was trying to rid her mind of her current thoughts. I shifted my eyes down once more. Her next words were in a more cheerful tone. "Well, I suppose I'll let you get on with your message, lord Maxwell." She turned to leave.

I wanted to stop her, ask her if she was going to be okay, or even come forth and tell her who I actually was, but all I could bring myself to say before she left was, "Thank you, your highness." I felt so inadequate watching as the last of her skirts disappeared around the corner.

When I finally turned back to Laraby, I couldn't help but feel absolutely confused at what he was doing. He stood by the east wall in front of the suit of armor with his hand engulfed in the open face of the helmet. Then suddenly, a bell-like ringing sounded throughout the entryway, and it was then that I realized: the suit of armor was also the service bell. _Where in the Twelve Countries_ did my mother find that?

Quick footsteps were soon heard and a moment later, a pageboy appeared in the doorway of the northwest corridor. He was quite a bit younger than I was, I'd say around Antonia's age, and had coffee-colored hair and bright green eyes.

"Lord Maxwell, this is Devon; he'll take you to the throne room." The boy gave me a small nod and turned back in the direction he came, only looking back once to see if I was following him.

As we walked through the halls of my castle, I noticed most of the pictures from my childhood were replaced with others. The only hall that was untouched was where my parents hung our family portraits. The last one was still the one with my fifteen year old self. Had they not sat for a portrait since my absence? How strange. Mother was always insistent with keeping our portraits recent.

Another strange occurrence was the silence of the pageboy. They usually tried to talk as much as they could before the person they were guiding would tell them to hold their tongues. I suppose they felt more important conversing with people of higher status. Once we were down the third corridor, however, he began to speak.

"How was your journey, sir?" he asked politely. I forgot that they usually try to wait until they were out of earshot of Laraby. He frowns upon the pageboys trying to make conversation with their charges, and he had insanely good hearing.

"It went well. Thank you," I said, trying out my new accent on him. He didn't seem to suspect that it wasn't my true accent and only nodded.

"How long have you been a messenger?"

"Not very long at all, and actually, I'm not exactly a messenger. I just have a message to deliver."

"Oh. Well, I've been a pageboy for three whole years now," he stated proudly. "I started when I barely turned twelve. It's a fairly good job, I think. I'm paid well for a boy my age, and every little bit helps for where I send my earnings."

"And where is that, might I ask?"

"To my mother, brothers and baby sister," he said simply, like it was the most obvious answer.

"Oh, well I hope everything works out for you, then," I said, making a mental note to increase the boy's salary. It was common to hear among the less fortunate of fathers leaving several children behind, so the young boys are forced to work to provide for their families. Maybe I'll make Devon my personal servant. They are paid almost three times the salary of a pageboy.

"Thank you, sir."

When we finally arrived to the guarded double doors to my parent's throne room, I couldn't help but feel quite nervous. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might beat right out of my chest! And I was glad the two guards were the ones to open the door; my hands were so sweaty, they would have slipped off the handles.

Devon gathered himself up as tall as he could stretch and stated, "This is lord Maxwell from Ciri, and he has a message for the king and queen."

The guards' eyes swept over every inch of me, making me feel very exposed. I almost thought that they could see right through me! It was very uncomfortable, to say the least. Once they were satisfied, they each took a handle and let Devon and I pass through.

There they were; the two people somewhat responsible for my current state. I was surprised with how much my parents still looked the same as when I left. Perhaps Father had a touch more gray in his hair and an extra line or two in his face, but Mother was still beautiful, as though time didn't really pass for her as for everyone else. I was also surprised at my feelings towards them. I would have thought that the sight of them would have brought back my old feelings of betrayal and anger, yet all I felt was excited and a little eager to see how my plan will turn out. Mostly I wanted to see their reactions for what I was about to tell them.

Devon stepped ahead of me. "Lord Maxwell of Ciri requests an audience with your majesties," he announced, bowing. He then left the room while the guards closed the door after him.

My parents' gaze shifted to me. I swept into a very low and graceful bow that I was taught and made to perfect when I was little when in audience with my parents. They seemed very impressed with the gesture, and I even caught my mother giving me a small smile.

"Your majesties," I began in my falsely accented voice. "Forgive my intrusion. I realize the matter of which I am to speak is very delicate, but –" I then paused dramatically. "I have news of your son Philip, the previous Crown Prince of Rischen."

Many emotions passed upon their faces, but then Father's finally settled on anger (surprise, surprise) and Mother's seemed hopeful. Father was the first to speak.

"How dare you present yourself in all your state to speak lies about our son!"

"Jerold, please," Mother said sternly and placed a hand on his forearm. "He hasn't told us anything yet." She turned back to me. "What have you to say, young lord?"

"Your son is alive an—"

"What poppycock!" Father said, cutting me off. "Our son is dead. We all know it!"

"Dead to you, perhaps," I said with a little too much emotion and almost forgot to use my accent. I took a deep breath to calm myself down. "But no. He's alive and well."

I was too busy trying not to glare at my father as we stared each other down – apparently my promise to myself of not keeping eye contact with my parents went out the window when it came to him – and so I flinched slightly when my mother made a kind of small choking sound. My gaze shifted to her, and it was then that I noticed she was crying. Her eyes glowed from the relief and joy that shone through them.

"Where is he?" she whispered, though her voice still carried through the huge room. "Is he close by? Why didn't he come himself?"

"Yes," Father said disbelievingly. "Why _didn't_ he come himself? How do we even know you speak the truth? This could be some horrible trick to–"

"Jerold, _really_," Mother said. "Let him speak."

I thought quickly, gathering the pieces of conversation I prepared for when I again saw my parents.

"I am a friend of Prince Philip," I began, "and he relayed to me the day he came to his parents for help in his situation." Their expressions mixed with a bit of guilt as I spoke. "He said that you didn't suggest or attempt to do anything except hide him away 'for the good of the country'. And so he left, feeling hurt and disowned."

"We were much too harsh on him that day," my mother began. Her voice quivered in places throughout her telling and tears streaked her face. She didn't even bother to dry them. "The shock of my little boy being a frog was too much for me to bear at the time. I felt awful for letting him leave after what he went through. He needed his mother to make everything all right again, and I . . . I could barely look at him." My heart gave out to her. I stepped forward, wanting to comfort her, place a hand on her shoulder, hug her – anything to have her stop crying. But after that one step, I halted. I couldn't ruin my cover so quickly. I still needed to know what my father thought of the whole ordeal. I looked at the two to see if they noticed my gesture. They didn't. Father was too concerned with my mother, and _she_ had her face buried in my father's handkerchief.

Father turned to me. "How were we to do anything to change him back? We didn't even know what could be done."

"I believe he made suggestions," I replied, noticing my anger beginning to build as soon as my father spoke. He always could make my temper rise without much encouragement. Father shifted his gaze, and I continued. "He asked you to bring back the witch, but you were afraid she might do something more, which, I suppose, was understandable. And you very well couldn't ask any other being of magic, because everyone knows that they can't undo another's spell. Yet when he suggested for you to hold a ball and invite every princess in the Twelve Countries to try and break his enchantment, you immediately denied his suggestion for fear of what everyone would think of _you_. No other reason showed itself but your selfish decision of how _you_ would be viewed in the eyes of others! You were only asked to give a ball for your son, to help him become human again. But you said no, and then sent him on his way."

"Who are you to speak to royalty in such a manner?!" my father thundered, rising from his throne. I held his stare with defiance. He then lowered his head and spoke in a softer tone. "You haven't any idea what his mother and I have gone through these past five years, living with the thought that our son ran from us. _Us_. His own parents. Never knowing if he was alive or how he was getting along, not one word reached our ears. And we were to blame! You haven't any idea how that feels."

"He was _alone_ for those five years," I retorted, not realizing that I'd lost my accent. "Afraid to come back, afraid to move forward with his life; he was only fifteen! He shouldn't have been thrown into the world to live by himself, and especially not in his newly enchanted form. He needed someone to help him through it; to give him more choices with how to deal with his situation. He needed his parents! And what did you do? You tossed him aside like some common pest. Your own son!"

"Enough!" Father barked. He glared at me for a while, but exhaustion seemed to overtake him and he collapsed in his throne, burying his face in his hands. I glanced over at my mother; her tears seemed endless, yet she never made a sound. Her lips quivered slightly, too, as though they were struggling not to show certain emotions.

Minutes passed in silence. Once I calmed down, I wanted to apologize for my shouting. I didn't realize how much I oppressed over the years, only to have it explode out of my mouth without any regard for their feelings. Now, there _was_ a small part of me that couldn't care less about how they felt about what I had said, but that was the small fifteen year old who was rejected by his parents just for looking different. I could see that they really did feel awful and guilty for turning me away, and my yelling at them was only making things worse. I came here to make amends, not deepen the hole.

I took a deep breath and sighed. "I apologize for the manner in which I have been speaking to your majesties," I said in the thick accent I adopted, giving them another graceful bow. "I should not have raised my voice to higher beings than myself, and I am grateful you haven't called for the guards to take me away yet," I joked. My mother gave me a faint smile.

"Perhaps we both could have been more civil," my father said. It was the closest to an apology as I could get from my father. I took it.

It was then I realized that my mother was quiet for quite some time. Usually when she 's silent, she has something on her mind and lets my father and their visitors speak while she observed. I wondered if she was guessing who I was. When she finally spoke, she asked in a gentle voice, "Will you give Philip our apology?"

The rest of the anger in my father's face vanished with one look at my mother. He turned his attention to me. "And could you tell him that he is welcome at home, in any form, whenever he chooses to come back," said Father.

After that statement, there way no way I could pretend being 'lord Maxwell' any longer. I have to tell them who I am – I just hope they aren't too angry with me for deceiving them.

"What if I was to tell you that he found his princess to break his enchantment and is standing before you now?" I said smoothly and without my accent. My father only stared, shocked and confused. My mother, however, flashed a beautiful, happy smile and rose from her throne to stand before me. Her eyes were shining. She combed her fingers through my floury hair and tousled it a bit, which made some of the flour fall and revealed patches of my dark hair. Then, with the handkerchief in her hand, she wiped part of my jaw line where the charcoal covered my face.

"I knew it was you," she whispered.

"You aren't angry with me for deceiving you?"

"I know why you did," she said. "You wanted to hear for yourself that we would accept you, no matter what form your body took."

"When did you know it was me?" I asked.

"No one ever speaks to your father in such a manner, or stands so defiantly before him, except for me and my dear Philip. Once I had my suspicions, the rest was easy to piece together. Your accent also slipped a couple of times while you were speaking." I smiled. "Would it be too much if I gave you a hug?" she asked.

My eyes burned as I tried not to shed any tears. I shook my head. "No," I managed to choke out. I couldn't believe I was close to crying. Only my mother would get me to have this sort of reaction. She wrapped her arms around me and I returned the embrace.

When she pulled away, she brushed some of my hair out of my face in a tender, motherly fashion. "I'm so glad you're safe. These past five years have been similar to torture knowing you were out there alone. All I could think about was how you looked at me that day, for reassurance that I wouldn't let you down; that I would talk your father into doing something to help you. And I turned my back." Tears welled in her eyes again, and my father put a hand on her shoulder. The movement almost startled me, as I didn't even realize he was so close to me all of the sudden, but I quickly masked my surprise.

"We never meant for you to leave the castle, son," my father said. "When we found out, we had our most trusted guards search for you everywhere in the country, never dreaming you'd venture farther than your home. But they always came up empty-handed. Your mother wouldn't come out of her chambers for months, and I kept to my study. We blamed each other and ourselves. We should have been more supportive. We're… we are truly sorry, my son," he said remorsefully.

Wow. I'm almost speechless. A real apology from my father? He never apologizes to anyone! Mostly because he always believes he's right. And they really seem like they missed me; they were even acting like loving parents.

"I always thought you didn't care about me as much as everyone else in the family. You always showed more kindness to my brothers and even my sisters than with me."

"Oh, Philip," my mother said gently. "You were an angry, fifteen year old boy. You thought anyone who defied you or told you what to do hated you."

My father nodded and continued, "You wanted the world to see you as some sort of high being, parading around the castle in your surly moods and terrorizing anyone who stood in your way. You went through five tutors in two years!"

"But I suppose it is partly your father's and my fault," my mother cut in. "We spoiled you more than the others when you were younger with you being the only boy from four children. When your brothers were born, it seemed you felt as though you weren't important to us anymore. That's when your moods began."

I took in everything they were saying to me and looked back over my childhood. It was then that I realized they were absolutely right. I remembered getting away with anything and everything when I was younger and even receiving more than my share of presents. When my brothers were born, I saw my parents spending more time with them than with me, and so I began to purposely get myself into trouble just so they would pay attention to me, to always have me on their mind of why I was acting out. My brothers were babies! Of course they needed more attention than my bratty teenage self!

"I'm sorry I was such an arrogant, selfish child," I said. "Looking back I never realized how much of a terror I became."

"Well, it's all in the past now," Father replied, waving aside my apology. "You must tell us your story at your celebration tonight."

"My celebration?"

"Of course, dear," Mother said, taking my arm and leading me to the door. "Your sisters will all have to come and your brothers. The people will know of their Crown Prince's return tomorrow. Tonight is only family. Now go on upstairs to the primary guest quarters and get ready. I'll have a maid come supply you with new clothes and then we'll have you fitted for your new wardrobe immediately afterward, along with the tidying of your old room. Doors!"

The doors opened upon her shout, as the guards were accustomed to her orders. I walked by myself to the primary guest quarters, named such for their always being prepared for unexpected guests, and took the first one on the right, as directed by my mother.

Once inside, I undressed and climbed into the steaming bath water – which I didn't question being there ready for me, as my mother had her ways of making sure things were done precisely when she wanted them to be done.

After scrubbing all the flour out of my hair and rubbing all the charcoal off my face, I returned to the bedroom to indeed find some clothes in my size upon the bed. I didn't even hear the maid come in.

Downstairs in the Dining Hall where I was led by Devon, who was ecstatic to learn he had been conversing with the missing Crown Prince, I met with the rest of my family. My eyes swept the room, taking in my sisters and the two strange men who accompanied them. It seemed as though Michelle and Corinne had already been married off, so their husbands were here as well. I couldn't find Antonia anywhere, though. She must not have come down yet. Then I saw my brothers, or rather, they saw me first.

"Oh, Philip!" cried Thomas. "Thank goodness you're here!"

Alexander nodded his head enthusiastically and said, "We don't know anything—"

"About running a kingdom—" cut in Thomas.

"And to have all of our people looking up to us—" continued Alex.

"Or giving advice to those who ask—"

"When we're only eleven years old—"

"Is a really scary thought!" they said together. I smiled, feeling relieved that they weren't upset for my taking back my rightful place to the throne.

"All right, first of all, anyone crowning you a king at eleven has some serious issues," I said. "And second, Alex was the next Crown Prince, so really, Thomas, _you_ wouldn't have had to do anything in regards to running the kingdom."

"Have you really been gone that long, Philip?" he asked.

"Of course Thomas would have been by me with every decision and issue we would have come across," said Alexander.

"And where would your queen fit into all of this, Alex? Or your wife, Thomas?" I asked them. They both gave me disgusted looks.

"Girls? Gross!" they both said.

"You'll think differently about girls soon, believe me," I replied. Then I thought about what they said of why they were glad I was back.

"So hold on a minute, let me get this straight," I said. "The only reason you two are glad to see me is so you wouldn't have the responsibility of the kingdom over your heads?"

They exchanged nervous glances. "Not entirely," Alexander said.

"Yeah, we missed you, too."

"You were a really cool looking frog."

"You only missed me as a frog?" I asked. They traded glances again.

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, Philip, but—"

"Your brotherly affection needed a serious transformation."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I guess I deserve that."

They looked at me, both with one eyebrow raised, yet opposite sides, as though they mirrored each other.

"You _have_ changed, Philip," they both said.

"Can you two possibly stop doing that? The whole saying the same thing at the same time and finishing each other's sentences – twin thing is creeping me out a little," I said with a slight shudder.

The boys grinned at each other and then said in unison, "We get that a lot."

"And yet you persist."

"Aw, come on, Philip. Lighten up," Alex said.

"Yes. We're at a celebration in your honor," said Thomas. "The least you can do is take our jesting lightly."

"Yeah. We don't mean anything by it." They gave me identical wide grins.

"Tell me, how was my absence credited to the people?" I asked, curious as to what my parents said to cover up the time I was a frog.

"Mother and Father said that you were out walking in Dancaut Forest, even though you weren't supposed to have been, and you never came back. Until now."

"And to you and our sisters? What did they say?"

"They just said you went missing, and now you've returned, surprisingly unscathed." Thomas gave me a pointed look, which I chose to ignore. He wouldn't have it. "Will you tell us your story, Philip?" he asked, eagerly.

"Oh yes! I bet it was very adventurous," exclaimed Alex.

Just then, the one person I've been hoping to speak to again entered the room.

"Perhaps later," I replied, distracted. I caught her gaze and her eyes narrowed – not exactly the reunion I wanted. "Will you two excuse me," I said to my brothers. Without even waiting for a reply, I made my way to my youngest sister.

"Good evening, Antonia," I said in a careful tone when I reached her. She stood with her arms crossed, foot tapping, and her eyes still narrowed. "I, uh … well," I felt myself begin to squirm under her piercing gaze. "I'm … mm." It was then when she began to smile.

"Wow, Philip. I never thought I'd see the day when _you_ would be afraid of your baby sister," she teased.

"I'm not afraid," I retaliated, gaining confidence as her grin broadened. Yeah, that was a lie. I _was_ afraid; afraid she was going to either yell at me furiously, or punch me. I was betting on the latter. But now that I knew that she wasn't really mad, I needed an excuse for my 'fear'. "I'm just, uh, a little _apprehensive_ for your reaction from discovering lord Maxwell was really me." This was mostly true.

"Mm hm," she said, not believing me in the slightest. She smiled. "You know, I had a strong suspicion 'lord Maxwell' was you."

"I thought you did."

She nodded. "I didn't want to believe it, though."

She probably couldn't bear the thought of having me live here again. Somehow I'm going to have to make up my past behavior to her.

"I didn't want to be too hopeful to have you back, only to have my emotions crushed again if he wasn't you. You were my best friend, you know."

This staggered me. "I was? How could I have been? I was always so rude to you."

"Oh in the end you were a bit more snippy, but you always found time for me."

"I didn't _find time_. You always had Mother and Father force me to play with you."

"True," she replied, grinning. "But you didn't have to be so obliging in everything I made you play with, and you always thought of the best games."

It was true I thought of other games to play when I was made to spend time with her, but I always made sure the game was to my liking, not having any care whatsoever whether she was having fun. Yet, as I reanalyzed my emotions from those times, I realized that we both really did have loads of fun, whether I wanted to admit it or not. Perhaps I wasn't as rude to her as I thought and was only telling myself so to ease my thoughts for my wicked reputation that I worked so hard to uphold.

"Well, nevertheless, I apologize for anything I did to upset you," I replied.

"Don't worry about the past so much, Philip. Come, let's celebrate your return," she said, taking my hand and leading me to get reacquainted with our sisters and meet their husbands.

Michelle's was the Crown Prince of Mysk, which was a northern country bordering the Lyndor Sea. Corinne's was a duke of a great fortune from our country Rischen. They were both betrothed, but only Michelle seemed to be genuinely happy with her husband. It was really too bad for Corinne. I would have liked to have seen both of my sisters happy.

They were happy to see me, at least. However, it was only after about an hour of my genial behavior. They realized that I'd grown out of my angry stage, and we were all laughs and smiles afterward.

As the evening progressed, Father and Mother joined our little party, and I shared my tale of my "adventure", as Alexander liked to call it, with the family I never thought I'd ever want to see again. I was glad I returned. For the first time in a really long time, I felt as though I actually belonged here with my family.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_Chapter Fifteen_

_An Unexpected Meeting_

*~.....~*

I awoke the next day to a very quiet and blissful morning. The sun was shining through the window and birds sang their songs of a new day. I yawned and stretched, feeling the headboard with the tips of my fingers, still in disbelief that I was home and human again. I threw my blankets aside and slid my legs over the side of the bed, letting my toes, my wonderfully web-free toes, flex and grab at the fibers of the carpet.

Then, the moment I rose from the bed chaos ensued. Alex and Thomas burst through the bedroom door with Malcolm, the royal tailor, and several of his assistants closely in tow. As soon as the door was closed, my sleeping attire that I had borrowed from my father was cast aside, and I was instructed to stand in my undergarments with my arms outstretched to my sides like in a 'T' shape. Malcolm soon began measuring me in what I thought were absurd places, such as the lengths of each of my fingers and from the floor to my ankle and from my ankle to my knee, along with all the normal measurements required for clothing. He was also asking me questions while he barked out orders and measurements to his assistants. All the while my brothers were talking to me non-stop about various things and also asking me questions that apparently didn't need much of an answer because they barely gave me enough time to do so, anyway. The whole ordeal was very hectic and confusing.

After Malcolm took the last of my measurements and asked me his final odd question of what color Lia's eyes were, he took his leave with his assistants scurrying after him. My brothers rambled on whilst I changed behind the dressing screen into some clothes Malcolm left behind for me to wear while he worked on the clothes specially fitted and designed for me. I knew this was all because of my mother, because 'I can't just wear generic clothes; I'm royalty, and I have to make a statement'. I really did appreciate the gesture, since I don't have any clothes of my own, but did she have to make such a big fuss of it all?

Once I was dressed, Alex and Thomas whisked me from the guests' wing to my father's study. Apparently he needed to speak with me, which was great, because I needed to speak with him, as well. The door was wide open, so the boys walked right in and took their seats in the various chairs spread throughout the huge room. I, on the other hand, knocked on the door frame.

"Philip, my boy, come in, come in! Nice to see one of my boys have manners; your brothers just barge right through and make themselves comfortable." My father looked pointedly at the twins, who gave him sheepish grins in turn.

"They said you wanted to see me?" I asked, as I lowered myself in the chair he gestured for me to take.

"Yes. Your return will be announced to the public at noon, and I would like you to make a statement on the matter. Make it brief; the people don't need to know everything," he said meaningfully.

"I understand, Father," I answered, though not entirely respectful as it sounded. It wasn't like I was going to mention to my people that I was once a frog. They would have me out and Alex as their crown prince again faster than I could say '_ribbit_'. I couldn't believe my father implied that I would actually say anything in regards to my late amphibian form.

"We also need to discuss your duties as Crown Prince," he continued in a tone that bordered on annoyance, "now that you are finally here to carry them out."

Finally? What was that supposed to mean? 'Why, I'm sorry, Father, for taking so long to find myself and my true love to break my spell. Terribly rude of me. I should have made better use of my time so that my return would have been more convenient for you.' Grr… The longer I'm with my father, the faster my patience subsides to make way for my anger. Some things really are beyond change. I didn't trust my voice; I could only nod.

"We should begin tomorrow. I'll have Rupert give you the reports, and then you will join me for Court after noon."

Oh! Rupert, my father's royal advisor; I'm actually a little intimidated. He'll be my advisor when I'm king, if I so choose. I'll want to make a good impression, and especially if he's overseeing Court as he used to when I was a boy. I was always amazed with how well my father handled the people on days of Court. I hope I won't have to participate tomorrow, though; I really don't know how well my advice or problem solving skills will be with my only being human again for a few short days.

"You may leave," my father said, cutting into my apprehension. I couldn't leave yet, though.

"Before I do, Father, I have an issue to discuss with you."

"Carry on."

"How well are we in alliance with the country to the east?"

"Well enough. Why do you ask?"

"The king of that land has forced my princess in an arranged marriage with his son, and I need to persuade him otherwise."

"His son; you don't mean Leopold?" he asked with a hint of humor.

"The very same." A deep laugh escaped from my father. My jaw tightened. "I don't think this at all funny. Lia will have to marry him in less than a month."

"No, you're right. But I don't think you'll have anything to worry about, son. That boy is too spoiled to enter into such a union."

"I'm under the impression that his father is forcing him." The humor quickly left my father's face.

"Mm," he said, thoughtful. "Well, in that case, you'll have mind to worry. When King Taurus sinks his teeth into something, he's loathe to let go."

This did worry me, and I wrote the king promptly after my meeting with my father. I explained to him my interest in his alliance with our country, which would immensely benefit him, and my price with such an offer – his son's betrothed. The king was delighted in my offer, just not my price. He told me that the union between his son and the younger princess of Ciri would not only provide him with a sound alliance with the country, but also make his son respectable in the eyes of his people, which _I_ took as 'she would make him settle down and behave like the king he is to become'. The king wasn't going to relinquish that opportunity so easily, not even for an alliance with a military-strong country like mine. I was growing impatient and apprehensive with each passing day. What was I going to do if I couldn't resolve this in time for the wedding?

… … … … …

News of my sudden reappearance quickly reached the ears of even the far countries, and our mail was abundant with letters and gifts of their support in having me back. I was humbled by all who shared my kingdom's delight, but there was only one person whose letters I was eager to read.

I wrote Lia at least three times a week, describing to her my life here now that I was back and how much I wished she was by my side, especially through the dull meetings my father forced me to attend. She in turn wrote with details of the wedding, in which she threatened in each letter that it better be ours or she would _make sure_ my little brother would become king in my place, and was trying not to let her mother aggravate her too much with her excessive planning of the _one_ day.

Then, almost two weeks into my return to my country, she asked me if I was going to ever make amends with the witch who cursed me. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I explained to her my very biased opinion on the matter and refused to even mention the witch. She responded with this:

_Yes, she wronged you, Philip, and it was a cruel thing to do, transforming you into a frog. But if she hadn't, you wouldn't have been led here, to me. I'd say she did us a favor. Without her, I don't know if we would have ever met. You should try and make amends with her, so our people and our descendents won't have any trouble with her in the future._

After brooding over Lia's request for a couple of days, I began to find the reasons in her argument quite persuasive. But I wasn't going to tell her that. Instead I wrote that she _may_ have a point and that I _might_ visit the witch after all. Before I announced it to my parents, though, I wanted to listen to what Antonia had to say about it. Our friendship was growing immensely, and I valued her opinion almost as much as Lia's. She is also the only other person who knows everything about the witch's and my confrontation, including our sister's true gender.

"Are you sure you should do this, Philip?" Antonia asked, her tone and expression showing great anxiety after I told her what I had planned. "You are our future king and should think about how our country would react if something were to happen to you again, not to mention what it would do to our family, to me. And what about Princess Lia?"

"This was her idea."

"What?!" she shrieked. "Is she crazy? Why would she even suggest such an irrational idea?"

"Lia believes – Lia _and I_ believe that it would be better to resolve our issues – Father's and mine – between the witch and our country," I explained.

"Exactly! Father! It was he who made the mistakes for the witch to punish you, yet you are going to try and resolve his faults?" she asked, trying to dissuade me by reminding me of why I was turned into a frog and the person responsible. Her intension was to redirect my plans and focus more on my father, forgetting about the witch entirely, but I wasn't to be deterred so easily.

"So you wish Father to go in my place?" I asked with one eyebrow raised. I already knew her answer, but it was fun to tease her. I watched her jaw tense as she clenched her teeth and took one quick breath through her nose, her eyes like blue fire.

"Of course not! That wasn't my point and you know it," she said. "I don't want anyone in that forest as long as she resides there. I only meant—"

"I knew what you meant," I said calmly. I reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I understand your concern, Antonia, but my mind is set. The good that will come out of my going – and it will be good; trust me – will far outweigh anything she can turn me into. And besides, I already have my true love to break any enchantments she may have in store for me, right?"

She reluctantly nodded her head and turned away so I wouldn't see the tears welling in her eyes.

"I'll be fine," I reassured her. "Promise."

She then unexpectedly threw her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest.

"You better be," she said, her words slightly muffled, "because if I have to mourn you twice, I'll never forgive you."

"I can't have that. I will take extra precaution," I avowed, returning her hug and then held out my handkerchief for her.

"See that you do," she said, taking it and gently dabbing her now very bright blue eyes.

My mother's reaction was close to Antonia's and my father was bordering on furious. 'How dare I even think about finding the witch again after only just returning. Did I not care for my country?' But after the fourth time explaining it to him (he refused to listen to the other three until my mother basically forced him to reason. He claimed that he 'didn't need to listen to the nonsensical ramblings of a love struck fool, who would do anything to please his woman, including jeopardizing his country'. Needless to say, I _really_ had to try and keep my temper under control), he finally reconsidered and thought it best I should try to make amends. It all came out to sound like it was his idea in the first place. I was still seething when I left the next morning.

The forest seemed to tower before me as I gathered my courage to enter, but the real challenge was to come. When I found the witch the first time, I was wandering aimlessly and for an unknowable amount of time, which, thinking back, wasn't the best idea on my part. Devoid of my being turned into a frog, I could have gotten myself terribly lost. I mean, how was I supposed to have found my way out of the forest if the witch wasn't there to point me in the right direction? Because of this fact, I had an idea where the witch lived, seeing as she showed me to my city _from_ her house. I now can follow the same direction _toward_ her house.

I ventured into the forest alone, thinking it would be best this way. I couldn't let anyone else face her besides me for fear of what she might do to them. I couldn't have something like that on my conscience.

I lit the lantern in my hand and stepped through the thick trees where the dazzling sun would be blocked out. The lantern wasn't near as bright as the sun, but it would do. I held it high to light not only my passage, but also the surrounding area. I didn't want any surprise visits from anything in this forest. I brought with me a knife for protection, since I lost my sword during the witch's and my last confrontation. Hopefully if all goes well with the witch, maybe she can help me find it, if she didn't have it already.

After walking for quite a while, I began to question my logic in finding the witch's house. Was I really going in the right direction? Or perhaps the witch moved and her house was no longer there. I didn't walk through any remains of a structure, did I? Wait. How silly of me. A house can't deteriorate normally within five years. Not even her pitiable shack was in that bad of shape. Maybe she sensed my coming as she had before and decided to leave me be this time. But no; that didn't make any sense. If she recognized me as a child, she would definitely know that the 20 year old walking through the forest was me and would probably confront me for the reason why I'm no longer a frog. So where was she?

I was growing weary and was almost ready to give up when I noticed the beginnings of a clearing up ahead. The forest seemed lighter as there weren't as many trees for the sun to try to shine through and the brush wasn't as thick. _This has to be it,_ I thought, and sure enough I was soon facing a huge clearing with . . . well, a house, but not exactly the one I was expecting. I stopped and just stared at the magnificent structure.

The house, or small manor rather, for it was about the size of two full-sized one-story houses, was beautiful with its cream colored walls and dark, cherry wood trim. It gleamed in the bright rays of the sun. The surrounding lawn was a bright green, well kempt and had flower beds and trees strategically placed throughout. There was even a small glittering pond near the back of the manor from where a doe and her fawn were drinking. The entire scene was like something out of a fairytale my mother used to read to me when I was small. The strange thing was that it didn't seem to be out of place at all, this beautiful, inviting home in the center of the dark, forbidden forest, because where it was situated had plenty of sunshine and made the forest appear harmless. I almost rolled my eyes at its surrealism.

I stood there gaping and wondering how this place came to be. Who lived here? Was it even real? Am I so delirious from all my traveling that my mind is making me see this alternate reality? And where was the witch's tiny old house that, if I'm not mistaken, should have been here instead?

I was so deep in thought over my questions that the first time I heard the faint singing, I completely dismissed it as a bird's. The second time it was a bit louder and I almost thought I could distinguish a couple words. But wait, that can't be right. Birds can't talk. Then again, neither can frogs. Perhaps it was transformed as I once—

Then something tapped me lightly on the shoulder, ripping me from my thoughts and scaring me clean out of my skin – or at least, that's what it felt like. I heard laughter soon after that sounded like tinkling bells, while I bent over and put my hands on my knees, trying to breathe air into my vacant lungs.

"I am awfully sorry," said a sing song of a voice. "I didn't mean to startle you."

After I tried a few times to swallow my racing heart that lodged itself in my throat, I finally straightened up and looked right into a beautiful, smiling face. I felt heat rise to my cheeks. The young woman was tall and slender with smooth skin the shade of a pale moon. She wore a gown that was made of the finest silk dyed a beautiful rose red, accenting her long dark curls the color of a raven's feather. I couldn't begin to guess her age. One moment she was no older than I was and the next, she was older than my mother, yet still flawless. She possessed an unearthly beauty, and her silver eyes told me that she was much older than she appeared.

She waited patiently for me to speak. Once I realized this, my mind rushed to think of something, while my mouth had its own agenda. "I didn't mean to trespass," I blurted, feeling ridiculous right after and hurried to correct my idiocy. I noticed as she hid a smile behind her hand.

"What I _meant_ was: I apologize for my intrusion, my Lady. My name is Prince Philip of Rischen."

"I know who you are, your highness, and whom you seek," she said in her sing song voice. I realized then that her voice was probably the singing I heard earlier, except she was talking to me, not actually singing, which also explained the words I thought I heard.

"Wait, you do? How?"

"It is simple," she said, her smile growing wider, revealing perfect, white teeth. "It is I whom you seek."

I felt my confusion contort my face. Why would she think I was looking for her? "No, I don't think so. The woman I'm searching for is much older and does not compare with your beauty, my Lady."

"Thank you, but I assure you I am one in the same." This confused me even further. "Let me explain. Come," she said, leading me to the manor. "We will discuss this inside." I couldn't help but follow.

The interior of the manor was even more beautiful than its exterior. The dark cherry wood trim from outside also decorated the windows and doorways inside. Pale rose marble lined the floors while the walls were tastefully covered in elegant paintings and sculptures, not at all resembling my mother's odd décor. The Lady led me to an east parlor, so the sun wouldn't blare through the windows, as the time was clearly after noon by the sun's place in the sky. Several armchairs of a deep red were situated around a glass coffee table where there sat a silver tray with a glass pitcher of what looked like iced tea and two glasses. A plate of sandwich halves was placed beside.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, and help yourself to the refreshments. I am sure you must be hungry from your travel."

The plush chairs were as though I was sitting on a cloud, letting my body sink into the cushions, but I didn't dare touch any of the food or drink. The Lady had been very welcoming so far, but I still didn't trust her. My throat was parched, and my stomach began to growl from the appetizing smell wafting from the sandwiches, but I kept my hands in my lap.

As if reading my mind, she poured the iced tea into both glasses, set one down in front of me, took a sip from hers and grabbed a sandwich. She barely had the sandwich to her mouth when I reassured myself that I had nothing to worry about and reached for one. The sandwiches and tea were by far the most delicious I've ever tasted. By the time our conversation was over, I had refilled my glass twice more and ate five sandwich halves.

The Lady smiled at my ravenous appetite and began her explanation. "My name is Arienne, and I am an Enchantress. Who you see before you is my true form that humans can only see when their inner selves are equally just. My manor takes the same affect. Five years ago, your heart was filled with disdain for little reasons unmatched with their effect. My form mirrored what your inner self would have looked like and acted. You saw me as a rude hag, living in a shabby little cottage. Five years as a frog made you see life in a different way, not as a spoiled prince who gets everything handed to him, but as a lowly creature, fighting to survive. It was a lesson you needed to experience, rather than be told."

I thought about this for a bit while questions filled my head. "But why a kiss to break the spell? And from a princess, too?"

"Because what self-respecting princess would willingly kiss a frog, unless she loved him?"

I had not seen Lia in what felt like an eternity and, though I knew she loved me, hearing it from this enchanting Lady reassured me of it somehow. My heart swelled.

"What would have happened if I would have let Rosalyn kiss me instead of Lia?" I asked, curious.

"Nothing. You would have stayed a frog. I stated clearly - well, as clearly as my witch form allowed me to speak - that the spell would only be broken if the princess who kissed you loved you in return."

"How were you so sure I would even _find_ a princess, let alone have one fall in love with me?"

"I guided you to her. Only Princess Lilian could have released you from your enchantment. You two were destined to be together, but unfortunately, your journey to love would not have gone as smoothly if you were to have kept your human form, and tragedy would have soon followed. But I will not waste our time by explaining a future that is not destined to happen anymore."

This brought upon new questions. "You can foresee the future?"

"To an extent," she answered. "And change it, too, when I see fit."

"And you changed mine. . . . Why?"

"I saw the love you and Princess Lilian eventually shared before tragedy struck, and so I decided to alter the chain of events that would lead to your downfall. I enchanted you, because I knew you were capable of changing."

I took in all she had explained to me. I was going to ask her what happened that was so terrible, but somehow I knew she wouldn't tell me. Instead, I began to think about everything that had happened since I was a frog.

"So everything you've done wasn't an accident," I began, trying to make sense of it all. "You gave me a voice to make it easier to communicate with Lia. When you threw me out of the window, you knew it was open. Why did you come back out to look for me?"

"I was making sure I didn't break anything of yours. If I had to heal you, it would have ruined everything. Luckily my aim was true, and you landed in the brush instead of on the rock not inches from where you were."

My thoughts drifted to the witch's absurd nature. "Why were you always acting so bizarre, like the whole 'Great Spirit' thing?"

She laughed and the tinkling bells filled the air again. "I had forgotten about that," she said, her eyes vacant for a moment, thinking back. "I was only delving into the role. My hag form supposedly does not have a very long memory, so I 'forgot' that I gave the frog a voice. How else was I supposed to explain the unexpected voice that filled my cabin after two days of your being unconscious? Besides, it was quite a bit of fun. I do not usually get to behave in such a fashion."

I imagined being an Enchantress could be quite difficult for anyone, especially for an immortal being. She was forever an Enchantress and probably reveled in the distraction her witch form allowed her.

She was very convincing in all her explanations, and it was difficult not to believe her, but one thing still bothered me.

"Five years ago when I asked you why you turned me into a frog, you told me it was in revenge of how you were treated by my father. Does that even have any truth to it?"

"Somewhat. He did banish me after I altered his chances for his first child to be his heir, but that was really quite ignorant on his part if he thought mere words could banish a being of my power. Not to mention, the forest was my home long before his father's father even thought about having children. However, his banishing me had nothing to do with your enchantment. You wanted an explanation, and I could not exactly reveal my true reasons, so I gave you a different one."

"You lied to me?" For some reason, I didn't think Enchantresses were capable of lying, as though it was immoral and only something a human would do.

"I stretched the truth," she replied simply.

"Same thing," I said.

She gave me a dazzling smile, as though I passed some sort of test, and said, "You have transformed brilliantly, your highness. Not many people would agree with your statement. Yes, I did lie to you, and I do apologize."

I stared at her stupidly. Whatever I was anticipating for her to say, I didn't expect her to apologize. I felt my face flush in embarrassment of having an Enchantress apologize to me, and her smile grew.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "What about my sister? Has my father learned his lesson for you to change her back?"

The enchantress's smile morphed into a look that I've seen very often in the past couple months. She thought me naïve. Why does everyone insist on making me feel inadequate? My reddened face from embarrassment deepened in anger.

She must have noticed because then she said, "I mean no disrespect, your highness. However, can you not think of several reasons why it is very unlikely for me to restore her to the gender of her birth?"

It took a minute for my anger to subside. I thought about her question and realized the truth in her words. Michelle had lived over a quarter of a century as a female. Questions would arise like a wild fire if she suddenly transformed into a man, not to mention her marriage to a prince would cause problems, as well.

"Why did you punish my sister for something my father did?"

"Have you learned nothing, your highness?" she asked, not unkindly, though I'm sure I heard a slight annoyance. "My altering your sister had nothing to do with your father, as my transforming you into a frog did not either. I saw her future as well, and believe me, she is much happier being a woman."

This confused me, but I let it go. I'm sure the Enchantress knew best.

"And my father? Did he learn his lesson?"

"I'm afraid your father was beyond my help," she sighed, "but he did soften a tiny bit with your return. I only hope it lasts." I had a slight suspicion that it wouldn't; at least, not toward me. He still had much to teach me about running a country, and all I could think about was when I was going to see Lia again. With her by my side, though, I was sure I would be a much better pupil for my father.

Questions answered, issues resolved, I rose to leave. "Thank you for your time, my Lady. It was most interesting conversing with you." I took in the richness of the room and her very expensive looking gown. "I just have one more question."

"Yes?"

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you acquire such fine things, like this manor and your dress?"

She gave me a sly smile. "Magic," was her simple answer. "Why shouldn't I live in luxury when it is so easily acquired? Besides, I am not the only one who resides in this house, which is why it is so big, but I won't confuse you with the knowledge you shouldn't know in the fist place." This only fed my curiosity. "That reminds me, though," she continued. "I will ask you not to mention our conversation to anyone besides Princess Lilian."

"What about my sister Antonia?"

"I believe she is trustworthy, as well, but no one else. I cannot have everyone coming to me asking for favors. That is not how I work."

"What should I tell my parents? They need to know what took place here."

"They do not need to know everything. You may tell them only that you have accomplished what you set out to do and nothing more."

"Yes, my Lady." I turned to leave.

"One moment, your highness," she called. "You may be wanting this back." She revealed my sword I had lost. I had completely forgotten to ask her about it.

"Oh, thank you very much, my Lady," I said genuinely. The sword was still in pristine shape, almost like new. She dipped her chin in acknowledgement.

"You must hurry back," she said with sudden urgency. "The wedding of your beloved is fast approaching, and if you wish to take the place of the one she shall marry, the matters preventing you from doing so must soon be resolved."

Great. I had only a week to straighten this out before the wedding. I just hope I'm not too late.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_Chapter Sixteen_

_A Wedding to Remember_

*~.....~*

Lia stood alone in a room of the huge church in her home capital, anxiously awaiting her future. Before her were three full-length mirrors reflecting exact replicas of the gorgeous white wedding dress she wore. Lace and intricate silver embroidery elegantly covered her dress from her waist down to the edge of her six foot train. The torso was a smooth fabric consisting of only a thin line of the embroidery along her bust and two-inch-thick lace straps over her shoulders. Amelie, the most famous dressmaker in the Twelve Countries, had really outdone herself with this one. She was very difficult to come by to even _ask_ if she would make you a dress, so it was extremely rare for her to actually accept a woman's request. Of course, it did help that Lia was a princess . . . _and_ that Amelie and Lia's mother were friends.

She only wished she could have worn the dress to a wedding she actually wanted to experience.

"Oh, Philip," she whispered dejectedly, her head lowered. "How could you leave me like this? To marry someone other than you."

A knock on her door echoed in the quiet room, making her jump slightly and bringing her reluctant attention back to the present. Lia sighed, knowing it was her mother, Rosalyn, Amelie and anyone else her mother brought up to see her, as though she was on display. She put on a smile that in no way reached her eyes and stepped towards the door to let them in.

And in they came, all bustling in one after the other, exclaiming all sorts of approvals and with her mother leading the flock.

Lia rose an eyebrow at what her mother was wearing. Queen Emmaline was dressed in a very extravagant lilac gown with a deep purple robe – the sign of Cirian royalty – off her shoulders. For jewelry she wore dangling amethyst earrings, a couple bracelets on each wrist, a sparkling diamond necklace with a big teardrop amethyst in the center, and her silver crown. Lia thought all the jewelry was a bit much, but her mother always liked to show off her trinkets. She was very distracting with all her glitter.

"Oh! Lilian," she said a little louder than was necessary so that her voice would be heard above all the others. "You look wonderful, dear!"

"Yes, you really do, Princess!" They all agreed like the little lambs they were.

"That dress is absolutely _divine_ on you!"

"You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen, your highness, and I've seen my fair share of weddings!"

"Your prince is going to drop when he sees you!"

_Pfft_, thought Lia. My _prince isn't here._

She then noticed her mother leaning in for a hug, a hug Lia desperately needed. She raised her arms, but at the last minute, her mother drew away.

"Oh! What was I thinking?!" she exclaimed, while Lia stood confused and with her arms still raised. "We don't want to wrinkle the dress!" Lia put her arms down.

"Oh. No, of course not," she replied with a tight smile, trying not to give way her true emotions. It didn't work, though. Her mother saw through it. She gazed knowingly into her daughter's sad eyes.

"Could you ladies give my daughter and I a moment?" she asked in her voice of authority, so though it seemed like a question, they in no way had a choice in staying.

"Of course, your majesty," they all said. Rosalyn helped beckon them all out and even gave Lia an encouraging smile before closing the door.

"Lilian, dear," her mother began in a soft voice. "I know this is difficult for you, but I thought you were beginning to accept the marriage with a good disposition. You even seemed excited when we were discussing the wedding plans, and you were always the first to the mail for the invitation reserves."

Lia crinkled her face in reluctance as she finally explained the truth to her mother. "Oh, mom. I lied about wanting to be the first to know of everyone who was reserving their seats for the wedding. I mean, yeah, I _was_ curious to see who were coming, but it wasn't my _real_ reason for rushing to the mail."

Emmaline tightened her lips and raised her eyebrows; her eyes were a deep blue-green with one meaning: danger. Lia knew this expression. It meant that she was _not_ happy, but instead of yelling at her daughter like she wanted to, she'll keep quiet and let her explain.

This was _so _much worse than her mother's yelling, because she usually went into the conversation with a biased outlook, rarely ever giving any lenience to Lia's judgment. Lia's stomach squirmed uncomfortably in anticipation and seriously considered telling her mother it was all a joke and that she was only nervous for the wedding.

But, no; her mother deserved the truth. Besides, she'd know _that_ was a lie. Lia took a deep breath to calm her stomach.

It didn't work. Not even a little.

She pressed on, anyway, speaking quickly. "I was always eager to collect the responding letters of my own."

The queen's eyes narrowed at the cowering princess. "What responding letters?" she asked slowly and precisely, yet she used a light tone, which made it even worse. "To whom are you exchanging letters?"

"Well, he's a prince," Lia said, hoping that fact would let her off a little.

"Please tell me he's Prince Leopold."

"Not exactly, mom."

"No," she confirmed, as if to herself. "No, I didn't think so, but one could hope."

"His name is Philip."

"Prince Philip," her mother said pensively. Then her eyes widened. "Not the Crown Prince of Rischen Prince Philip," she said with disbelief, her temper forgotten by her surprise. Lia nodded. "But it's said he returned only a month ago after five years having disappeared. How ever did you two meet?"

Lia bit her lip, debating on whether or not to tell her mother exactly how she met him and how she kept their relationship hidden. Her mother was surely going to question her sanity, but Lia figured that she could always ask Rosalyn to assist in making her story credible.

"I don't think you will believe me if I told you," she finally said.

"I think you should at least give me a chance," her mother retorted.

"O-kaay," she answered in a tone plainly saying that she didn't think it was a good idea whatsoever. Her mother will lock her up for sure. Well . . . maybe not. "I will tell you, but I request to have Rosalyn in here while I do."

Her mother pursed her lips, telling Lia that she was thinking it over. "I don't understand why, but I will let you call in Rosalyn."

Lia opened the door and called in her sister. She was stunning in her light pink gown and deep purple robe. Her shining auburn hair was pulled up into an elegant style with her silver tiara atop her head. A few wisps of hair fell gently into her bright blue eyes. Her expression was one of surprise in being asked into what she knew was some sort of argument between her mother and younger sister.

"What's going on?" she asked in a knowing tone.

"I need you for support. I'm about to explain to mom about Philip," Lia answered. Rosalyn's eyes brightened.

"Really? This should be interesting," she said, taking a chair by the window. Their mother gave both girls a confused and suspicious look before settling herself in a chair to listen to her daughter's explanation.

Lia jumped right into telling her mother about how and where she met Philip for the first time. To gently ease her mother into the fact that he was once a frog, Lia told her Philip's story, the one he told Lia the first day they met, except she left out certain parts, such as the true gender of his eldest sister. She didn't feel like that was a fact Philip wanted to share with just anyone, and her mother didn't need to know either. The queen's expression showed revulsion when Philip's previous form was revealed, but she then covered it quickly with one of contemplation.

"So that is why no one could find him for so long," the queen said, thinking aloud. "Not only was he hiding in our pond at our summer palace, which we had not been able to visit for quite some time until this year, but he was also an amphibian, instead of the boy of which his kingdom were searching."

Lia nodded.

"How does Rosalyn fit into your story?" her mother asked, glancing over at her older daughter.

"Well, remember the man I said had an interest in Ros?" Her mother flinched when Lia used her nickname for her sister. Emmaline loathed the nickname but didn't say anything, letting Lia finish. "I wasn't exactly truthful to either of you with his actual form." Lia then told her about the night of Philip's transformation, how he was about to kiss Rosalyn and then changed his mind because he fell for Lia instead.

Queen Emmaline looked over at Rosalyn, who was still sitting in the chair in front of the window. The sun that shone in through it encased Rosalyn's form in a warm yellow glow, making her seem more angelic and unearthly than usual. Lia rolled her eyes; even on her wedding day she still came in second best to her sister.

"He chose you over Rosalyn?" Emmaline asked.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Lia answered, a little hurt.

"Well _I_ happen to think that Lia looks absolutely stunning," Rosalyn said, rising from her chair to stand by her sister. Lia and Emmaline gazed at her with unbelieving expressions. "And besides, looks aren't everything, Mother. He fell in love with who she is, and I'd never seen her so happy before. He's the reason she's been so agreeable with you about everything you ask of her, and especially with the wedding. They were hoping it would be theirs, not hers and Leopold's."

Lia's heart leapt out to her sister. She never wanted to embrace her more than at that moment.

Her mother held her head in shame, but really, Lia felt that she should have known her mother would have reacted that way. Rosalyn had always been her mother's favorite, just as Lia was her father's.

She decided to change the subject.

"Oh, mom. It isn't _just_ that I'm marrying this egotistical prince who has no regard for anyone but himself. He probably doesn't even know the responsibility that comes with being a prince, not to mention a king. . . . But I suppose this isn't really fair. I've only spent very little time with him and first impressions aren't always the true behavior of a person; although with Leopold I don't doubt I'm too far off. I just don't think I'll ever grow to love him, especially when my heart will forever belong to someone else."

Queen Emmaline, who had been patiently waiting throughout her daughter's rant, took one of Lia's hands and enclosed it with both of her own.

"Sweetheart," she began gently. "Prince Leopold wouldn't have been close your father's and my first choice for you. We never wanted either of you girls to be put through an arranged marriage."

"I know. And I do understand that this union betters both of our countries, but I just can't seem to keep Philip out of my head."

Her mother looked deep into Lia's pleading eyes, and her own eyes softened.

"Lilian, dear, I'm sorry, but there isn't anything your father and I can do at this point." She gave her daughter a regretful smile. "I really do feel awful about this whole ordeal. I can see how much you really love this Prince Philip. He sounds like the better match for you, but unless a miracle happens today, you will be marrying Prince Leopold. When that happens, dear, you will have to put your prince out of your mind and heart, or it will eat at your soul. Please, don't let that happen."

Tears began to well in Lia's eyes, and she tried to blink them back. "I promise. For you, and for my country."

"That's my girl," said her mother, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing away Lia's tears. Rosalyn walked over to a stand and withdrew the sheer veil lined with small jewels that completed Lia's bridal wear. She placed it gently over Lia's long, honey brown hair and stood back.

"You really do look beautiful," she said, giving her a rare genuine smile.

"Thanks, Ros," Lia replied and returned the smile with a brave one of her own.

"All right," said her mother, taking a deep breath as though she were the one having to marry today. "Let's go. It's about to start."

They made their way down to the altar, stopping just outside the closed doors to the entrance. Her father met them there. The King looked very regal in his best suit with all his military medals, dark purple robe and silver crown.

Before the cue music for the wedding to begin was heard, Rosalyn stepped in front of her sister and took her hands.

"It's all going to turn out all right," she encouraged meaningfully and squeezed her sister's hands. Lia grew confused with her sister's enthusiasm but didn't have much time to dwell on it. The music had begun, and Rosalyn left to take her seat.

The doors in front of them opened, revealing the huge congregation of royalty, nobles, and even some lucky commoners. Lia wanted to cry as her father took her right arm and her mother took her left, but she breathed deeply and put on a brave face, allowing her parents to lead her to her new future.

Lia smiled at the people she passed, taking in every detail of their outfits. Most were very handsomely dressed, as though attending their own wedding, with the exception that no one was in white, of course. She knew the whole purpose was to show off their position of status and how much wealth they possessed, as was the ways of any formal occasion in the Twelve Countries, it seemed.

She also noticed quite a few of the men's attentions were focused on the left side of the church where the three thrones were situated for her father, mother and sister to watch the ceremony. Lia smiled at her sister, who was already seated in her throne and was looking as gorgeous and regal as ever. Rosalyn returned Lia's feeble smile with a brilliant one of her own. She still didn't understand her sister's excitement for her marriage. Perhaps it was because Lia was marrying Prince Leopold instead of her.

No. That wasn't fair. She and Rosalyn had grown quite fond of each other in the past month. Rosalyn wouldn't harbor such feelings about her little sister anymore; Lia was sure. Yet her curiosity still grew.

Lia shoved those thoughts from her mind and gazed at the church itself, keeping her attention anywhere but the altar in an attempt to try to avoid the inevitable and feeling little pieces of her heart break away with each step she took. She admired the beautiful displays of flowers and the decorations of the two colors from each country – a deep violet and silver of Ciri and the forest green and gold from Leopold's country.

Wait. She thought Leopold's colors were _blue_ and gold. Perhaps she was mistaken? But before she could dwell more on the matter, however, her mother whispered out for hers and her father's ears.

"Who is that? He isn't Prince Leopold."

Lia's attention was wrenched away from the decorations, her heart beating frantically in her chest in hope. Her eyes rested on the groom with his dark hair and deep, dark eyes.

Philip.

He was smiling brilliantly at her, making her knees weak. She was thankful her parents had a hold on each of her arms, because she wasn't sure she would be able to support her own weight at the moment. Her heart felt full and renewed as she gazed at him. He was really here; she couldn't believe her eyes.

Her father leaned over to whisper in her ear. He spoke quickly. "Prince Leopold wasn't to be found, and apparently another merger was made between Leopold's father and the Crown Prince of Rischen. He sent me a letter explaining the merger and why he suggested it. The letter read that he has loved you for quite some time and knows that you return his love. To prove this to me, he sent me a letter you wrote to him along with a letter from him to me asking for your hand. Plans for you to marry Prince Philip instead of Prince Leopold were very last minute, and he wanted it to be a surprise."

Lia was speechless, but her wide grin and shining eyes expressed what words couldn't. This is why Rosalyn was so cheerful; she knew. Lia made a mental note to berate Philip later for making her think she was marrying Leopold and not him. She was too blissfully happy right now.

As her parents gave her away, she reached out her hands for his. He gladly took them and squeezed.

"You look … _wow,_" he said in a low, husky voice, making Lia's heart race. He looked great, too, in a white tailcoat and pants with a cummerbund that matched the color of her eyes.

The priest cleared his throat and looked at them pointedly. It was frowned upon for a bride and groom to talk to each other until the priest pronounces them husband and wife. They both gave him sheepish smiles.

During the ceremony, Lia found it awfully difficult to control herself. She wanted to throw her arms around Philip, kiss him, do anything else than just stand there facing him. And could the priest talk any slower?! It was as though he was torturing them on purpose. She barely fidgeted, but apparently it was enough to receive several glares from the priest. She noticed Philip having the same problem. They traded smiles, and he reached out to grasp her hand.

When the time came for them to exchange rings, Philip brought her hand up to his lips and brushed them lightly across her knuckles. His hot breath sent Lia's blood racing, and she felt heat rise to her cheeks. The priest gave Philip a menacing look, but Lia could tell that Philip was quite pleased with himself. She wasn't complaining.

Finally the end of the ceremony drew near, and the priest bound a rope around their already joined hands. The priest almost looked as though he was dreading his announcing them husband and wife for what they might do, but Lia would make sure Philip kept the kiss light and simple, even though her body screamed otherwise. She didn't want an earful from her mother, saying how much Lia disrespected the church and her bloodline. She was a princess, after all, and he a prince. They needed to act like it.

This all went out the window when his lips met hers. It did start out light and simple as planned, but the moment his soft lips touched her own it was as though an electric shock surged through her, and suddenly she was hungry for more of him. Her arms subconsciously wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her; and it was she who deepened the kiss, receiving appalled gasps and various throat clearings. Lia couldn't have cared less what anyone thought then.

It was Philip who actually had to pull her from him, though she noticed he did so reluctantly. He gave her a wide smile and took her hand. '_I love you,'_ he mouthed to her. Lia's heart could barely contain her happiness. '_And I love you,'_ she mouthed back and raised their joined hands to the room. A polite applause broke out as the people looked upon the union of their two countries, and a true love story one only reads about in fairy tales.


	17. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

*~.....~*

I relived our wedding in my head, feeling like it was only yesterday. Lia walking down the aisle, seeming to glow in the beauty specially reserved for a bride on her wedding day; although, Lia carried that certain beauty with her always. I was a little disconcerted at first when she kept looking elsewhere than at me, but I soon remembered that she didn't know I was the one at the altar and not Leopold. Once she looked my way though, I had to remind myself to keep breathing. The smile that lit up her face was more than dazzling, and her eyes were the greenest I've ever seen them, shining with the unconditional love I knew was reflecting in mine.

She had given me quite a scolding after we were alone in the carriage that was taking us to our palace, the very palace where Lia and I first met. She was just a _bit_ infuriated for letting her think she was marrying Leopold. She threatened that if I was to ever put her through anything even remotely similar to the despair she felt during those hours before the wedding, she would deprive me of her affection for however long she felt was necessary.

I had made a mental note to keep her away from Antonia. I figured that since each of them already had me wrapped around their little fingers, there was no telling what they would get out of me if they joined forces.

As my luck would have it, somehow they found each other. And I was right. All they have to do is smile and ask me sweetly and – I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but – I melt like wax over a flame and give them whatever they desire. Whoever said that a man controlled the home was lying through their teeth. We may be the head, but women are the neck, and they can turn the head any way they please, believe me.

After Lia had calmed down from her threatening me, our conversation in the carriage was much more civilized, but mostly because she wanted to know a couple details about how the day resulted in our marriage, and fortunately not in hers and Leopold's. She explained to me what her father had whispered in her ear while walking down the aisle and then asked me how I managed to convince Leopold's father to reconsider the betrothal.

It was really quite simple to persuade the king after I figured him out, I had told her. Not only did King Taurus want a solid alliance with the country of Ciri, but more importantly, he wanted his son to have a better outlook on life with his being future king and knew this could only be acquired by a marriage with a respectable, intelligent, strong-willed and beautiful woman. (Lia had smiled at my attempts at flattery, knowing full well I had added most of the adjectives. I was still in trouble with her at the time, and talking about her betrothal with Leopold wasn't helping my cause.) I had assured King Taurus that if he agreed to my terms, he would have an alliance with two countries instead of the one. I had claimed that I would also personally make sure that Leopold's demeanor would change drastically. And, after a very lengthy deliberation that almost made me too late to arrange what was necessary for the wedding, King Taurus finally accepted.

I mentioned Lia's astounding intellect, right? Well, she's also quite skilled in observation, which is to be expected. While explaining to her my conditions, deals and promises to King Taurus, she caught that there must be more to the story with Leopold. She was immediately suspicious of me; narrowing her eyes and tightening her lips, she asked me quite bluntly if I had anything to do with what happened to Leopold for him to have suddenly disappeared, and then once again threatened me, saying that it better not have been anything terrible. I only smiled. Our kingdoms will prosper greatly with her by my side, I thought proudly.

_Of course_ I was somewhat responsible. I made sure he wasn't any where near my wedding and took great pride in assisting with his so called 'disappearance'. I informed King Taurus of my intentions to turn his son into an idyllic prince worthy of the throne and marriage, and, given the king's desperation in wanting this to happen, he consented with only the briefest of pauses. My next act was persuading Leopold to join me in a friendly shooting competition in the forest – Dancaut forest. I soon arranged for an introduction with a certain Lady _he_ saw as an old hag, who felt as wholeheartedly as I did that his vanity and behavior was in need of an adjustment. Last I heard, Leopold was living in an abandoned castle as a Lion waiting for his Lady to love him as a beast and break the spell.

But to disclose to Lia how exactly I accomplished Leopold's new fate, I first wanted to tell her of the Enchantress, and the reason for her enchantment on me. She listened patiently to my lengthy story and was soon in awe of the Enchantress and her gracious nature. Lia felt a great deal of gratitude towards the Lady Arienne and insisted that I take her into the forest to thank her for all that she's done for us. I didn't want my Lia any where near that dangerous forest, and I made my decision clear: She wasn't to set foot in that forest, ever.

She, in return, gave me two choices: Either I accompany her into the forest, or she goes in without me.

I wouldn't have it! My decision was final and she needs to learn to obey me when I know what is best for her! She can argue and rant all she wants; she could even threaten to revoke my privileges to her, but my mind was set! She was just going to have to deal with it!

The day after our arrival to our palace, Lia clung to my arm wearing a victorious smile as we ventured into the forest. This wasn't at all how the situation was supposed to play out. Will I ever win any arguments throughout our life together, I wondered? Somehow I knew the odds weren't in my favor.

The Enchantress greeted us warmly and gestured us into her beautiful manor. She offered us the delicious sandwiches and iced tea from when I first visited, and this time, I didn't hesitate from eating as many as I could. Lia rose her eyebrows at my eagerness for the sandwiches but didn't say anything. The Enchantress wore an amused smile.

Once the astonishment of my eating habits wore down, Lia turned her attention to Lady Arienne and expressed her gratitude most ardently for interfering in our lives. It was entertaining to listen to the words she used, such as 'interfering', and almost made me laugh, but the intensity in her eyes gave such an impression that I couldn't. I was sure I saw a light pink shade darken the Lady's pale cheeks. I didn't even think an Enchantress was capable of blushing; it was an extraordinary event to witness.

The Lady Arienne thanked Lia graciously and gave us her blessings for a long and healthy life – as well as the little ones that follow. This comment, though I could not view my own face, drained its color, I'm sure. Lia, however, was beaming, and to see the pure joy emanating from her was enough to warm my countenance. This wasn't to completely rid my uncertainty, but at least Lia was happy. We couldn't have asked for more.

Lia and I had our palace to ourselves for only a week before our families decided to pay us visit. Her parents were generous in giving us their summer palace – the one in which Lia and I first met. This way Lia and I would be evenly situated between both of our kingdoms until my father passed the crown to me, which won't be for another several years. Kings in Rischen reign until they are unwell or until they want to retire, not when the Crown Prince becomes a certain age.

My family adored Lia and she and Antonia were on their way to becoming fast friends, despite their age difference; but then, Antonia was very mature for her age. She visited us so much that Lia and I offered her a room of her own. She accepted in a heartbeat (although, I suspected that one of the reasons for her eager acceptance was because of a certain page boy I met on my return to my parents' castle, whom is now one of my personal servants. She and Devon have been spotted talking together several times with smiles and blushes plastered on their faces. I don't know what I'm going to do about that situation. Personally, I didn't care who my sister liked, as long as she was happy and treated right, but I'm hoping it's only a little crush and will fade in time. I couldn't even imagine how it would sit with my father. In his eyes, servants don't court princesses, and that was that.)

Antonia has certainly brightened the palace, though, with her young, carefree perception; and it's good for Lia to have a young woman to talk to than only me. Plus, she'll be helpful when the time comes for another to enter our lives.

Of course, our mothers saw that they were never forgotten. They were always showing up at odd times or somehow interfering without even the slightest warning.

A gentle touch to my arm eased me out of my thoughts. I looked over at my Lia, her eyes shining with a radiant glow.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied simply.

"Your expression was one of irritation."

I didn't doubt it. The thought of our mothers always brought annoyance along with it, but I wasn't going to say that to Lia. "Was it?"

"You were thinking of our mothers, weren't you?"

Apparently mind reading is an extra feature that comes with loving someone. I merely grunted in answer.

"I think it's sweet that they want to help," Lia said.

"Oh, right. _You're _only happy about this because _your_ mother writes her suggestions in a letter, unless she wants to take the three day journey to our palace, and she rarely does. _My_ mother on the other hand can be here in less than a half a day, stays for at least a week, and is completely tireless with her ideas for the new room."

"I like your mother," she protested.

"Of course you do. All she does when she comes is rain compliments in your direction. For me, she barks orders."

"She does not bark," Lia reprimanded. "The only reason why you don't like your mother visiting so often is because she takes some of our time alone. You need to learn how to share."

"Impossible," I said, bringing her close. "I don't share anything of immeasurable value to me." I kissed her smiling lips.

"Well, you better learn soon," she replied, purposely placing a hand on her bulging stomach.

"This one," I began, lowering my lips to place a gentle kiss on her small, but rapidly growing, bump, "Is the only one for which I'll make an exception."

"What about others?" she asked.

I felt my pulse quicken and my eyes grow wide. "Others?" For heaven's sake! I'm barely getting used to the idea of one, and she has to bring up many?

She shrugged a shoulder and gave me an alluring smile. "Why don't we worry about this one first," I suggested, trying to calm my nerves. I looked into her beautiful blue-green eyes. She was absolutely aglow with happiness, her hand still resting absently on her slightly bulging stomach.

"Deal."

I placed my own hand atop hers, smiling and imagining no better way to begin our new destiny together.

_**END**_

Thanks to EVERYONE who has read and reviewed my little tale! It's been a great deal of fun writing this, and I'm glad I've had so many people enjoy it. ^_^


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